hm 



m 



I 



THE LIFE 



OF 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



BY 



/ 



WILLIAM F. GILL 



ILLUSTRATED 




C. T. DILLINGHAM. 

NEW YORK 

CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER 

PHILADELPHIA 

WILLIAM F. GILL & CO. 

BOSTON 



1877 






Copyright, 1876. 
William F. Gill. 



Getchell Bros., Prs., 
352 Washington Street, Boston, Mass. 



7# 



TO 



NEILSON POE, ESQ. 



IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE KINDLY SYMPATHY AND VALUABLE AID 
AFFORDED, 



THIS VOLUME. 



THE FIRST COMPLETE LIFE OF HIS KINSMAN, EDGAR ALLAN POE, YET 
PUBLISHED, 



IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 



ERRATA. 

In List of Illustrations, facing page 8, fifth line, "109" 
should be " 131." 

On page 142, fourteenth line, "dread " should be "ter- 
rors." 

On page 143, tenth line, " has " should be " had." 

On page 143, seventeenth line, "his attention" should be 
" himself." 



, 



PREFACE. 



For more than a quarter of a century, the American 
public, while crowning with laurels the genius of 
Edgar A. Poe, has lived on, indolently oblivious of 
the true story of his life. 

. Carping criticism has gloated over the doubtful 
record of follies and excesses ascribed to him by 
malignant enemies like Griswold, while the man, as 
he actually lived, is known only to the few. 

But as truth gradually displaces falsehood, we shall 
come to understand more correctly the true propor- 
tions of that marred and broken individuality, that 
nature so sensitively organized and so rarely devel- 
oped, under circumstances so exceptionally perilous 
and perverting. 

Some years since, the attention of the writer of this 
memoir was called to numerous inconsistencies appar- 
ent in Dr. Rufus W. Griswold's memoir of Edgar 
Allan Poe, and was induced to make inquiries that 
evidenced that this memoir, which for twenty-five 



4 PREFACE. 

years has been permitted to stand as the representative 
biography of the poet, was, to all intents and purposes, 
a tissue of the most glaring falsehoods ever combined 
in a similar work. 

It appeared, upon investigation, that Grisw old's 

x/srepresentations arose from the bitter enmity in 

which this mediocre writer held Poe, on account of 

the poet's slashing critique of his (Griswold's) 

" Poets and Poetry of America." 

It has been the aim of the writer to give an unparti- 
san transcript of the life and character of Edgar Allan 
Poe ; to be " to his faults a little kind," without 
shrinking from the duty of a biographer, to recount 
all facts that came within the scope of his province 
to record. 

Place has not been given to idle rumors, nor to the 
unsubstantiated opinions of unreliable persons. 

Dr. Griswold has been treated as a disagreeable 
necessity. So long as the impression created by his 
" memoir "exists, he cannot, injustice to the memory 
of the poet, be ignored on the ground of his medioc- 
rity as a writer. His shafts were none the less pitiless, 
although barbed with " poor fustian." Until another 
quarter of a century has elapsed, it cannot be expected 



PREFACE. 5 

that the baleful work done by Griswold can be up- 
rooted, for it has stood and thriven during the past 
twenty-five years, and, upon many persons now liv- 
ing, has created an impression that will endure while 
life endures. To the new generation of readers, with 
whom the lamented poet is finding a favor denied him 
at the hands of his contemporaries, this memoir may 
best fulfil its purpose of pleading the cause of a man 
of genius, condemned unheard. 

It may also serve to answer the complaint of an 
English writer, that " no trustworthy biography of 
of Poe has yet appeared in his own country." 

It has been the design of the writer to include in 
this work everything of importance that has been 
written or related of Poe, so far as accessible and 
reliable. 

It has been our good fortune to be brought into 
relations of near friendship with several of the most 
intimate friends and companions of the poet ; and in 
many cases, we speak, literally, "out of their own 
mouths," more significantly, without doubt, than if 
we had had the temerity to assume more independent 
views. Our especial acknowledgments, for valuable 
assistance rendered, are due to Mrs. S. H. Whitman, 



6 



PREFACE. 



Mr. Neilson Poe, Mrs. Annie L. Richmond, Mr. 
George R. Graham, and the late Mrs. Maria Clemm 
and Mr. T. C. Clarke. 

The portrait given is from a daguerrotype taken 
from life. It represents the poet in his youthful prime, 
and by one, a near friend of Poe, who has seen all his 
pictures known to be in existence, is pronounced the 
best likeness extant. 

WILLIAM F. GILL. 




^v 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

ANCESTRY. 

The Origin of the Family Name, Italian — Founding of the Race in Ireland — 
Family Feud with the Desmonds — Dispersion of ihe Families by Cromwell — 
Heroic Defence of Don Isle — The Powers and Lady Blessington —General 
David Poe — The Poet Counsellor — The Ballad of " Gramachree " — David 
Poe, Jr., and his Runaway Match — Poe's Actress Mother — Convivial South- 
ern Customs and their Consequences — Place of Poe's Birth — Death of Poe's 
Parents 9-20 

CHAPTER II. 

CHILDHOOD. 1 809-1 826. 

Birth of the Poet — Early Beauty and Fascination — Poe's Foster Father — 
Precocious Predilection for the Muses — At School in England — Stoke New- 
ington and Rev. Dr. Bransby — At School in Richmond — First Ideal Love — 
Death of Helen Stannard — First Volume of Juvenile Poems — At the Univer- 
sity of Virginia — Testimony of the Faculty of the University — Morbid and 
Sensitive Temperament — Athletic Achievements 21-39 

CHAPTER III. 

EARLY HARDSHIPS. 1826-1834. 

Home from School — First Quarrel with Mr. Allan — First Meeting with Virginia 
Clemm — A Second Edition of Juvenile Poems — A Griswold Fabrication dis- 
proved -* William Henrv Leonard Poe — Poe and the Mflford Bard — An 
Amusing Poetic Duel — Poe at West Point — A Third Edition of Poems — The 
True Story of Poe's Dismissal from West Point — Another Quarrel with Mr. 
Allan — Second Marriage of Mr. A'lan — Poe at Mrs. Clemm's — A Lie re- 
futed — The Baltimore Prizes — Mr. J. H. B. Latrobe's Account — Poe and 
Hewitt — Pen Photograph of the Poet at 24 Years — "Adventures of Hans 
Pfaal" — The Heir Expectant left Penniiess 40-70 

CHAPTER IV. 

BEGINNING A LITERARY CAREER. 1834-I838. 

First Contributions to Periodicals — Engagement with the "Southern Literary 
Messenger" — Griswo'.d's Pettiness — Critical Reviews — J. K. Paulding's 
Encomiums — Marriage with his Cousin, Virginia Clemm — Melancholy in 
Solitude — Susceptibility to Drink — Innocence of Motive — Withdrawal from 
the "Mesrenger" — Engagement on the '"New York Quarterly Review " — 
Mr. William Gowans' Reviews — A Notable Review — First Prose Book, 
" Arthur Gordon Pym" — Its Success in England 71-87 

CHAPTER V. 

VARIED EXPERIENCES IN PHILADELPHIA. 1838-1844. 

Removal to Philadelphia — Engagement as Editor of the "Gentleman's Maga- 
zine" — "Ligeia" — Inspiration of Visions — Ihe Fall of the House of 
Usher — The Haunted Palace — Griswold's Charges of Plagiarism — The 
Manual of Conchology — Professor Wyatt's Refutation — First Collection of 
Tales — An Audacious Griswold Invention — C. Alexander's Letter — The 
"Gentleman's " merged in "Graham's " — Brighter Days — Pen Pictures of 

7 



CONTENTS. 



the Poet's Home — Virginia's Simplicity — A Pleasing Incident — The Mur 
dcrs in the Rue Morgue — First Introduction to the French Public — An Ab- 
surd Controversy — Baudelaire on Griswold — The Barnaby Rudge Analysis — 
The Mystery of Marie Roget — The Purloined Letter — Notable Papers on 
Autography and Cryptology — Withdrawal from "Graham's" — Griswold's 
Confusion of Facts, and its Cause — George R. Graham's Statement — A 
Pertinent Anecdote — The Dream of Poe's Life — The " Stylus " — First Ap- 
pearance on the Rostrum at Baltimore — First Lecture in Philadelphia. 88-127 

CHAPTER VI. 

CAREER IN NEW YORK. 1844-1846. 

On"The Northern Monthly" — Engagement on the "Mirror" — Testimony 
of the Poet Willis — First Anonymous Publication of "The Raven" — The 
Authorship revealed by Poe's Recitation at a Soiree — Mrs. Browning's Com- 
mendation — Conflicting Opinions as to its Origin — Gilfillan's Malevolent 
Recklessness — The Americans of a Quarter of a Century Ago — Poe's In- 
tentional Concealment of Motive — Personal Romances — Testimony of Inti- 
mate Personal Friends — Discrepancy of the Poet's Reading of "The Raven " 
with his Printed Analysis of it — Origin of Imaginative Compositions — Anec- 
dote of Beethoven — The Clue to "The Raven " — Analysis of "The Raven " 

— Where "The Raven" was written — Mrs. Brennan's Reminiscences — The 
"Raven" Room — Insufficient Revenue of the_ Poet — Price paid for "The 
Raven" — J. R. Lowell's Criticism — Lecture in Boston — The Poet's Mis- 
chievous Propensity — Griswold's Ridiculous Charges — Reply to Boston 
Criticisms — E. P. Whipp'e's Testimony — The -Poet's Social Life — Charac- 
ter of Intellect — Conversational Powers — : Mrs. Osgood's Impressions — 
Failure with "The Broadway Journal" — "Literrti" Papers — The Dunn- 
English Quarrel — The Garbling of Poe's Work by Griswold. . . . 128-179 

CHAPTER VII. 

LAST YEARS. 1 846- 1 849. 

Removal to Fordham — Reminiscences of Fordham and its Inmates, by a Con- 
temporary of the Poet — Sickness and Poverty — A Public Appeal — Gris- 
wold's Malevolent Animus — Sympathy of Willis — Reply of the Poet — 
.---Death of Virginia — Fordham in 1847 — " Ulrfhime " — The Poet's Psychal 
Atmosphere — Lecture en " The Universe " — Letter to Willis — " Eureka " 

— Theory o c Deitv — Visit to Lowel — "The Bells" — Alteration irrm the 
Original MSS. — Some Suggestive Recolections — First Meeting with Mrs. 
Whitman — An Important Letter — An Ideal Home — Breakirg rf the Engage- 
ment — Griswcld's Grocs Misrepresentation — Reply of W. J. Pnbodie — 
Letter from Mrs. Whitman — The Poet leaves Fordham — A Last Effort to 
establish "The Stylus" — At Richmond rgrin — Return to the "Literary 
Messenger " — Anecdote of Annabel Lee, by J. P. Thompson — Lrst Visit to 
Philadelphia — Engagement with Mrs. Sheltcn — The Unfortunate Trip North 

— The Misfortunes in Baltimore — Death at Baltimore — A Retrospective 
Glance 180-244 

APPENDIX. 

How Griswold secured Poe's Papers— Erhemcral Vindicrtions of the Poet — 
George R. Graham's Noble Tribute — Mrs. Whitman's Memoir — Some Un- 
published Collections — J. H. Ingram's Memoir — Fairfield's Absurd Article 
in "Scribner " — Memoirs of Stoddard, Didier, and Memorial by Miss Rice — 
Extraordinary Catastrophe to the Original Monument to Poe — The Monu- 
ment erected November 17, 1875, in Baltimore — The Dedicatory Exercises — 
Addresses — Letters from Distinguished People 245-315 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

♦ 

PAGE 

I. Portrait Front 

II. Poe's Cottage at Fordham . . . Front 

III. Poe's School and Playground at Stoke- 

Newington 28 

IV. Rev. Dr. Bransby, Poe's English School- 

master 30 

V. Fac-Simile of Letter from N. P. Willis 109 
VI. The Stylus (from the original design by Poe) 115 
VII. Fac-Simile of Contract made with F. O. 

C. Darley, EsQj, January 31, 1843 . 118 
VIII. Fac-Simile of Letter to T. C. Clarke, 

Esq^, March ii, 1843 .... 120 
IX. Fac-Simile of Letter from George R. 

Graham 137 

X. The House where " The Raven " was 

written . . . . . . . 148 

XI. The Room where " The Raven " was 

WRITTEN I48 

XII. Portrait of Maria Clemm . . . 182 

XIII. Fac-Simile of the Original MSS. of 

"The Bells" 207 

XIV. Fac-Simile of Letter to Mrs. S. H. 

Whitman 218 

XV. Fac-Simile of Letter from Mrs. S. H. 

Whitman 228 

XVI. The Poe Monument, erected in Balti- 
more, November, 1875 .... 312 




Poe's Cottage at Fordham, with vignettes suggested by his works. 



THE LIFE 

OF 

EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CHAPTER I. 

ANCESTRY. 

The Origin of the Family Name, Italian — Founding of the 
Race in Ireland — Family Feud with the Desmonds — Dis- 
persion of the Families by Cromwell — Heroic Defence of 
Don Isle — The Powers and Lady Blessington — General 
David Poe — The Poet Counsellor — The Ballad of "Gra- 
machree" — David Poe, Jr., and his Runaway Match — 
Poe's Actress Mother — Convivial Southern Customs and 
their Consequences — Place of Poe's Birth — Death of Poe's 
Parents. 

HE name Poe is an old Italian name, 
and the minutest genealogical research 
finds it antedating the river Po, which, 
it is presumed, followed the original spelling of 
the princely family from which it was named. 
The family, like that of the Geraldines, and other 
Anglo-Norman settlers in Ireland, passed from 
Italy into the north of France, and from France, 
through England and Wales, into Ireland, where, 
from their isolated position and other causes, they 
retained for a long period their hereditary traits, 
with far less modification, from intermarriage and 

(9) 




io LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

consociation with other races, than did their Eng- 
lish compeers. 

Meantime, the name underwent various changes 
in accent and orthographry. 

We find descendants of the parent family rooted 
in Ireland as far back as 1327, the name in its 
Gallic form being spelled le Poer. 

The disastrous civil war at this period, in which 
all the great barons of the country were involved, 
was occasioned by a personal feud between Ar- 
nold le Poer and Maurice of Desmond, the for- 
mer having offended the dignity of the Desmond 
by calling him a rhymer. 

We can well imagine that, sprung from a race 
to which the improvisation of poetry is a second 
nature, the sensitive ear of the le Poer could illy 
brook the ruder song of the untutored Celt. 

Readers of the life of our poet will probably 
be impressed with the curious coincidence pre- 
sented in his life-long battle with less cultured 
adversaries, with this contest of his Norman an- 
cestor and his less . gifted opponent. But the 
constitutional characteristics of the le Poers were 
at all times apparently distinguished by these 
marked combative elements, and as Mrs. Whit- 



ANCESTRT. n 

man remarks, in her admirable exposition of the 
literary career of Poe, "the possible influence, on 
a character so anomalous as that of Edgar Poe, 
of the mental and constitutional peculiarities of 
his ancestors, are certainly worthy of note." 

During the reign of Henry II. of England, we 
find Sir Roger le Poer in Ireland, as Marshal to 
Prince John. Here he became the founder of a 
race connected with some of the most romantic 
and chivalrous incidents of Irish history. 

The heroic daring of Arnold le Poer, Seneschal 
of Kilkenny Castle, who, we gather from Mrs. 
Whitman, interposed, at the ultimate sacrifice of 
his liberty and his life, to save a noble lady from 
an ecclesiastical trial for witchcraft, the first ever 
instituted in the kingdom, was chronicled by 
Geraldus Cambrensis, and has been commemo- 
rated by recent historians. 

A transcript of the story, as told by Geraldus, 
may be found in Ennemoser's "Magic," and in 
White's "History of Sorcery." 

The characteristics of the le Poers were marked 
and distinctive. 

They were improvident, adventurous, and reck- 
lessly brave. They were deeply involved in the 



12 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

Irish troubles of 1641 ; and when Cromwell in- 
vaded Ireland, he pursued them with a special 
and relentless animosity. 

Their families were dispersed, their estates 
ravaged, and their lands forfeited. 

Of the three leading branches of the family at 
the time of Cromwell's invasion, Kilmaedon, Don 
Isle, and Curraghmore, only the last escaped his 
vengeance. The present representative of Cur- 
raghmore is the Marquis of Waterford. 

Cromwell's siege of the sea-girt castle and fort- 
ress of Don Isle, which was heroically defended 
by a female descendant of Nicholas le Poer, 
Baron of Don Isle, is, as represented by Sir Ber- 
nard Burke in his "Romance of the Aristocracy," 
full of legendary interest. The domain of Pow- 
erscourt took its name from the le Poers, and 
was for centuries in the possession of the family. 

Lady Blessington, through her father, Edmond 
Power, claimed descent from the same old Nor- 
man family.* 

A few branches of the family in Ireland still 
bore the old Italian name De la Poe, which, 
naturally, in its Anglicized form, became Poe. 



* Illustrated London News, June 9, 1849. 



ANCESTRY 



n 



John Poe, the great-grandfather of Edgar 
Allan Poe, married a daughter of Admiral 
McBride, distinguished for his naval achieve- 
ments, and connected with some of the most 
illustrious families of England. 

From genealogical records transmitted by him 
to his son David Poe, the grandfather of the poet, 
who was but two years of age when his parents 
left Ireland, it appears that different modes of 
spelling the name were adopted by different 
members of the same family. 

David Poe was accustomed to speak of the 
Chevalier le Poer, a friend of the Marquis de 
Grammont, as having been of his father's family. 

The grandfather of our poet was an officer in 
the Maryland line during the war of the Revolu- 
tion, and an intimate friend of General LaFayette. 

General Poe was, in the true sense of the word, 
a patriot. To furnish provisions, forage and cloth- 
ing to the destitute government troops, he stripped 
himself of his entire patrimony. For this, he 
never instituted a claim, nor for services rendered 
to the United States as an officer ; but for actual 
money loaned, he claimed forty thousand dollars. 
Owing to technical informalities in the vouchers 



r 4 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



(which consisted principally of letters from 
Washington and LaFayette), he received no por- 
tion of the sum. The Maryland legislature, 
however, subsequently allowed his widow a pen- 
sion, and, in the preamble of the act, expressed 
their satisfaction of the equity of the claim, while 
they deplored the legal insufficiency of the proofs 
to support it. General Poe was one of the most 
intimate personal friends of LaFayette, who, dur- 
ing his memorable visit to America in 1824, 
called upon the widow, publicly acknowledged 
the obligations of the country to her husband, ex- 
pressed his astonishment at finding her in com- 
parative indigence, and evinced his strong indig- 
nation at the narrow-minded policy of the govern- 
ment. We gather a few particulars of this 
interview from the late "Baltimore Gazette," and 
other papers of the time : " General LaFayette 
affectionately embraced Mrs. Poe, exclaiming at 
the same time, in tears, c The last time I embraced 
you, madame, you were younger and more 
blooming than now.' He visited, with his staff, 
the grave of General Poe, in 'the First Presby- 
terian Church-yard,' and kneeling on the ground, 
kissed the sod above him, and, weeping, ex- 



ANCESTRY. 



*5 



claimed, % Ici repose un cozur noble!* — here lies 
a noble heart ! — a just tribute to the memory of 
a good, if not a great, man." 

A relative of David Poe, belonging to the Irish 
branch, although a lawyer by profession, was, 
like his now famous descendant, possessed of the 
divine afflatus, and one of his ballads so fasci- 
nated Robert Burns, the Scottish poet, that he 
included it in a collection of Scottish songs and 
ballads, ancient and modern, which, with anec- 
dotes of their authors, says Cunningham, exists in 
the handwriting of Burns in an interleaved copy 
of the first four volumes of Johnson's "Musical 
Museum," which the poet presented to Captain 
Riddel, of Friar's Corse. 

We quote the beautiful ballad, with Burns' in- 
troductory comment : 

"The song of f Gramachree ' was composed by 
Mr. Poe, a counsellor at law in Dublin. This 
anecdote I had from a gentleman who knew the 
lady, the * Molly,' who is the subject of the song, 
and to whom Mr. Poe sent the first manuscript 
of these most beautiful verses.* I do not remem- 
ber any single line that has more pathos than 



* Burns also apologized for placing an Irish poem in a 



1 6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

" ' How can she break the honest heart 
That wears her in its core ! ' " 



As down on Banna's banks I stray'd, 

One evening in May, 
The little birds in blithest notes 

Made vocal every spray ; 
They sang their little notes of love ! 

They sang them o'er and o'er : 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

The daisy pied, and all the sweets 

The dawn of nature yields, 
The primrose pale, the violet blue, 

Lay scatter'd o'er the fields ; 
Such fragrance in the bosom lies 

Of her whom I adore : 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

I laid me down upon a bank, 

Bewailing my sad fate, 
That doom'd me thus the slave of love, 

And cruel Molly's hate. 



collection in which it had no legitimate place. He evidently 
wished to embalm Mr. Poe's exquisite verses in a permanent 
form, and was willing, in his admiration of them, to disregard 
the fitness of things. 



ANCESTRT. 17 

How can she break the honest heart 

That wears her in its core ! 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

You said jou loved me, Molly dear : 

Ah ! why did I believe ? 
Yes, who could think such tender words 

Were meant but to deceive ? 
That love was all I ask'd on earth, 

Nay, Heaven could give no more ! 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

Oh ! had I all the flocks that graze 

On yonder yellow hill, 
Or low'd for me the num'rous herds 

That yon green pastures fill, 
With her I love I'd gladly share 

My kine and fleecy store : 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

Two turtle doves, above my head, 

Sat courting on a bow; 
I envy'd them their happiness, 

To see them bill and coo ; 
Such fondness once for me she show'd, 

But now, alas ! 'tis o'er 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 



j8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

Then fare thee well, my Molly dear, 

Thy loss I still shall moan ; 
Whilst life remains in Strephon's heart, 

'Twill beat for thee alone. 
Though thou art false, may Heaven on thee 

Its choicest blessings pour ! 
Ah ! gramachree, mo challie nouge, 

Mo Molly Astore. 

General Poe married a Pennsylvania lady by 
the name of Cairnes, who is still remembered as 
having been a woman famous for her singular 
beauty. They had five children, of whom the 
fourth, David, was the father of the poet. The 
manners and customs prevailing among the bet- 
ter class of Southerners, at this period when 
David Poe, Jr., was growing into manhood, were 
little calculated to foster healthful moral restraints 
in the younger generation. 

The punch-bowl was as indispensable a fixture 
in the hall as was the card-basket, and potations 
from the generous liquor were as freely and 
innocently indulged in as are draughts of ice- 
water at the present time. The custom probably 
came into vogue during the days of the Revolu- 
tion, and doubtless answered well for campaign- 
ers, with irksome out-of-door duties. In the 



ANCESTRY. 



*9 



warm climate of the South its baleful effects 
soon came to be felt, but not until the manhood 
of many well-intentioned young men had been 
unwittingly sacrificed by the acquisition of a 
habit of drink quite beyond control. David Poe, 
Jr., not unnaturally, fell a victim to the indul- 
gences of the flowing bowl, and manifested indi- 
cations of a weakness which excited great solici- 
tude among his family and friends. 

While yet a law student in the office of William 
Gwynne, Esq., Baltimore, Maryland, he became 
enamoured with Elizabeth Arnold, a young Eng- 
lish actress of considerable repute, and, at the 
age of eighteen, eloped with and married her. 

His parents, with the reprehensible contempt 
for the stage which then obtained, and which, 
more is the pity, still obtains to a great degree, 
disowned the young man, and he was thrown 
upon his own resources. Naturally enough, he 
went upon the stage, supporting his wife in sev- 
eral of her engagements throughout the country, 
but, with his limited experience, never, of course, 
attaining any position of importance. 

Upon the birth of their first child, William 
Henry Leonard Poe, a reconciliation between 



2 o LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

him and his family was, according to some ac- 
counts, cemented; but we doubt if David Poe 
returned to the paternal mansion, for Edgar was 
born in Boston, while his mother was playing an 
engagement there, and all accounts agree that 
the couple remained upon the stage up to the 
time of their death. Mrs. Poe died from pneu- 
monia, during an engagement at the Richmond 
Theatre, December 8, 1811. 

In the files of the Richmond Enquirer of that 
year, under date of December 10, is found the 
following obituary notice : 

"Died, on Sunday last, Mrs. Poe, one of the actresses of 
the company now playing on the Richmond boards. By the 
death of this lady the stage has been deprived of one of its 
brightest ornaments, and, to say the least of her, she was an 
interesting actress, and never failed to catch the applause and 
command the admiration of the beholder." 

Poe's father was one of the victims of the 
burning of the Richmond Theatre on the 26th 
of the same month in which Mrs. Poe died: * 

Their three orphaned children, William Hen- 
ry, Edgar, and Rosalie, all of tender years, were 
left unprovided for, but the general sympathy 
aroused at the time by the fire was extended to 
them, and they were all well cared for by kind 
friends. 

* Some authorities state that Mr. Poe died of consumption, 
two weeks after the death of his wife. 



CHAPTER II. 

CHILDHOOD. 
I 809-I 826. 

Birth of the Poet — Early Beauty and Fascination — Poe's 
Foster Father — Precocious Predilection for the Muses — 
At School in England— Stoke Newington and Rev. Dr. 
Bransbj' — At School in Richmond — First Ideal Love — 
Death of Helen Stannard — First Volume of Juvenile 
Poems — At the University of Virginia — Testimony of the 
Faculty of the University — Morbid and Sensitive Temper- 
ament — Athletic Achievements. 

DGAR ALLAN POE was born in Bos- 
ton, on the 19th of January, 1809. 
Born to privation, marked before his 
birth with the brand of his father's vice, the or- 
phan of two years seemed called upon to face an 
abject future. But a glamour of sunshine, at 
least, was destined to illume his path. It was 
but a glamour, a glamour that proved in the end 
but as a winding-sheet to the hopes of our poet. 
The extraordinary beauty and captivating man- 
ners of Edgar unfortunately won the attention of 
a gentleman residing in Richmond, Mr. John 
Allan, a man of wealth and position. We use 

(21) 




22 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

the word "unfortunately," advisedly, since the 
imaginative child must have received, among 
the first impressions of his new home, the idea 
of the great inheritance to which he was to look 
forward, and have become at the outset sur- 
charged with the spirit of self-willed indepen- 
dence, which such anticipations were calculated 
to create and strengthen. Mr. Allan's income 
was princely, and as he had no children, there 
was no reserve in the admission that he designed 
his adopted son to be the inheritor of his fortune. 

These were the poet's halcyon days ; and 
even at this early time he evinced his predilec- 
tion for the muses. Mr. Stoddard tells us that 
he was remarkable for a tenacious memory and 
a musical ear, and that he was accustomed to de- 
claim the finest passages of English poetry to the 
evening visitors at Mr. Allan's house, with great 
effect. The most insensible of his audience 
could not fail to be struck with the justness of his 
emphasis, and his evident appreciation of the 
poems he recited, while every heart was won by 
the ingenuous simplicity and agreeable manners 
of the precocious elocutionist. 

In 1817, Mr. and Mrs. Allan paid a length- 



SCHOOL DA rS IN ENGLAND. 23 

ened visit to England, being concerned in the 
disposal of some property there. Edgar, now 
Edgar Allan, after his adopted father, accom- 
panied them, and was placed in charge of the 
Rev. John Bransby, at Stoke Newington. 

Poe's partly autobiographical description of 
this school at Stoke Newington is found in one of 
his matchless short stories, "William Wilson :" — ■ 

"My earliest recollections of a school life are 
connected with a large, rambling Elizabethan 
house, in a misty-looking village of England, 
where were a vast number of gigantic and gnarled 
trees, and where all the houses were excessively 
ancient. In truth, it was a dream-like and spirit- 
soothing place, that venerable old town. At this 
moment, in fancy, I feel the refreshing chilliness 
of its deeply-shadowed avenues, inhale the fra- 
grance of its thousand shrubberies, and thrill 
anew with undefmable delight, at the deep hol- 
low note of the church bell, breaking, each hour, 
with sullen and sudden roar, upon the stillness 
of the dusky atmosphere in which the fretted 
Gothic steeple lay embedded and asleep. It gives 
me, perhaps, as much of pleasure as I can now 
in any manner experience, to dwell upon minute 



2 4 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



recollections of the school and its concerns. 
Steeped in misery as I am — misery, alas! only 
too real — I shall be pardoned for seeking relief, 
however slight and temporary, in the weakness 
of a few rambling details. These, moreover, 
utterly trivial and even ridiculous in themselves, 
assume, to my fancy, adventitious importance, 
as connected with a period and locality when and 
where I recognize the first ambiguous monitions 
of the destiny which afterward so fully overshad- 
owed me. Let me then remember. The house, 
I have said, was old and irregular. The grounds 
were extensive, and a high and solid brick wall, 
topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass, 
encompassed the whole. The prison-like ram- 
part formed the limit of our domain ; beyond it 
we saw but thrice a week — once every Saturday 
afternoon, when, attended by two ushers, we 
were permitted to take brief walks in a body 
through some of the neighboring fields — and 
twice during Sunday, when we were paraded in 
the same formal manner to the morning and 
evening service in the one church of the village. 
Of this church the principal of our school was 
pastor. With how deep a spirit of wonder and 



SCHOOL DATS IN ENGLAND. 



2 5 



perplexity was I wont to regard him from our 
remote pew in the gallery, as, with step solemn 
and slow, he ascended the pulpit ! This rever- 
end man, with countenance so demurely benign, 
with robes so glossy and so clerically flowing, 
with wig so minutely powdered, so rigid and so 
vast, — could this be he who, of late, with sour 
visage and in snuffy habiliments, administered, 
ferule in hand, the Draconian laws of the acad- 
emy? Oh, gigantic paradox, too utterly mon- 
strous for solution ! At an angle of the ponder- 
ous wall frowned a more ponderous gate. It was 
riveted and studded with iron bolts, and sur- 
mounted with jagged iron spikes. What impres- 
sions of deep awe did it inspire ! It was never 
opened save for the three periodical egressions 
and ingressions already mentioned ; then, in 
every creak of its mighty hinges, we found a 
plenitude of mystery — a world of matter for sol- 
emn remark, or for more solemn meditation. 
The extensive inclosure was irregular in form, 
having many capacious recesses. Of these, three 
or four of the largest constituted the playground. 
It was level, and covered with fine hard gravel. 
I well remember it had no trees, nor benches, 



26 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

nor anything similar, within it. Of course it was 
in the rear of the house. In front lay a small 
parterre, planted with box and other shrubs ; 
but through this sacred division we passed only 
upon rare occasions indeed — such as a first 
advent to school or final departure thence, or, 
perhaps, when a parent or friend having called 
for us, we joyfully took our way home for the 
Christmas or Midsummer holidays. But the 
house ! — how quaint an old building was this ! — 
to me how veritably a palace of enchantment ! 
There was really no end to its windings — to its 
incomprehensible subdivisions. It was difficult, 
at any given time, to say with certainty upon 
which of its two stories one happened to be. 
From each room to every other there were sure 
to be found three or four steps either in ascent 
or descent. Then the lateral branches were 
innumerable — inconceivable — and so returning 
in upon themselves, that our most exact ideas in 
regard to the whole mansion were not very far 
different from those with which we pondered 
upon infinity. During the five years of my resi- 
dence here, I was never able to ascertain with 
precision, in what remote locality lay the little 



SCHOOL DA TS IN ENGLAND. 27 

sleeping apartment assigned to myself and some 
eighteen or twenty other scholars. The school- 
room was the largest in the house — I could not 
help thinking, in the world. It was very long, 
narrow, and dismally low, with pointed Gothic 
windows and a ceiling of oak. In a remote and 
terror-inspiring angle was a square inclosure of 
eight or ten feet, comprising the sanctum, 'during 
hours,' of our principal, the Reverend Dr. Brans- 
by. It was a solid structure, with massy door, 
sooner than open which in the absence of the 
* Dominie,' we would all have willingly perished 
by the -peine forte et dure. In other angles were 
two other similar boxes, far less reverenced, 
indeed, but still greatly matters of awe. One of 
these was the pulpit of the f classical' usher, one 
of the f English and mathematical.' Interspersed 
about the room, crossing and recrossing in end- 
less irregularity, were innumerable benches and 
desks, black, ancient and time-worn, piled des- 
perately with much-bethumbed books, and so 
beseamed with initial letters, names at full length, 
grotesque figures, and other multiplied efforts of 
the knife, as to have entirely lost what little of 
original form might have been their portion in 



2 8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

days long departed. A huge bucket with watet 
stood at one extremity of the room, and a clock 
of stupendous dimensions at the other. 

"Encompassed by the massy walls of this ven- 
erable acadenry, I passed, yet not in tedium or 
disgust, the years of the third lustrum of my life. 
The teeming brain of childhood requires no ex- 
ternal world of incident to occupy or amuse it ; 
and the apparently dismal monotony of a school 
was replete with more intense excitement than 
my riper youth has derived from luxury, or my 
full manhood from crime. Yet I must believe 
that my first mental development had in it much 
of the uncommon — even much of the outre. 
Upon mankind at large the events of very early 
existence rarely leave in mature age any definite 
impression. All is gray shadow — a weak and 
irregular remembrance — an indistinct regather- 
ing of feeble pleasures and phantasmagoric pains. 
With me this is not so. In childhood I must 
have felt with the energy of a man what I now 
find stamped upon memory in lines as vivid, as 
deep, and as durable as the exergues of the Car- 
thaginian medals. Yet the fact — in the fact of 
the world's view — how little was there to remem- 




Rev. Dr. Bransby's Establishment at Stoke-Newington. 




The School Play-Ground at Stoke-Newington. 



SCHOOL DATS IN ENGLAND. 



29 



ber. The morning's awakening, the nightly 
summons to bed; the connings, the recitations; 
the periodical half-holidays and perambulations ; 
the playground, with its broils, its pastimes, its 
intrigues; these, by a mental sorcery lon^ for- 
gotten, were made to involve a wilderness of 
sensation, a world of rich incident, an universe 
of varied emotion, of excitement the most pas- 
sionate and spirit-stirring. ' O, le bon temfis, que 
ce Steele defer!' " 

Poe, in his description of the school-house at 
Stoke Newington, as in most of his pictures from 
life, drew upon his imagination somewhat. 

The actual house was identified a few years 
ago by the late Mr. John Camden Hotten, the 
London publisher. By a fortunate circumstance, 
Mr. Hotten stumbled upon an abstract of the 
leases granted by the Lord of the Manor, sixty 
years since, and amongst the entries was found 
the following : — 

Yearly rent. 
The Rev. John Bransbj, of the school in Church 
street, and ground in Edwards lane, 21 jeats 
lease, with 10 additional, expires March, 1837 • ^55-QO 

As Bransby was the name mentioned in the 
story, this gave a clue, and the house was 



3<d LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

soon identified, but not as having " Elizabethan 
gables." 

The actual house is a roomy old structure, of 
Queen Anne's time, and remains internally in 
very nearly the same state as when Poe went to 
school there. It is a school at present, under 
the care of a Mr. Dod, and although the thir- 
teen acres of playground, which existed in Poe's 
time, have long since been parcelled out to other 
tenements, or have been built upon, we were 
fortunate in being able to secure a good sketch of 
the house, together with a drawing, made whilst 
Poe was at the school, of the ancient manor gate- 
way, formerly a conspicuous object in the ground. 

The portrait of Poe's schoolmaster is interest- 
ing, when taken in connection with the poet's 
graphic description of the venerable clergyman 
in "William Wilson." 

Returning from England, Poe was placed at 
school in Richmond for a short time, under Mr. 
Joseph Clarke, who is still living, at Baltimore. 

According to Mrs. Whitman, one of the most 
accurate as well as one of the most accomplished 
of Poe's biographers, Poe was at this time twelve 
years of age. 




THE REV. DR. BRANSBY 

(Poe's English Schoolmaster.) 



SCHOOL DATS IN RICHMOND. 



31 



Here the embryo poet experienced what he 
wrote of, in the last year of his life, as "the one 
idolatrous and purely ideal love of his passionate 
boyhood." As instancing a peculiar phase of 
Poe's character, his sad, remorseful pity for the 
departed, which, as Mrs. Whitman writes, is 
everywhere a distinguishing feature in his prose 
and poetry, this characteristic incident, which the 
lady describes in her monograph on Poe, affords a 
striking illustration. 

One day, while at the academy at Richmond, 
he accompanied a schoolmate to his home, where 
he saw for the first time Mrs. Helen Stannard, 
the mother of his young friend. 

This lady, on entering the room, took his hand 
and spoke some gentle, gracious words of wel- 
come, which so penetrated the sensitive heart of 
the orphan boy as to deprive him of the power 
of speech, and, for a time, almost of conscious- 
ness itself. 

He returned home in a dream, with but one 
thought, one hope in life : to hear again the sweet, 
gracious words of welcome that had made the 
desolate world so beautiful to him, and hi led his 
lonely heart with the oppression of a new joy. 



3 2 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



Mrs. Stannard afterwards became the confidant 
of all his boyish sorrows ;. and hers was the one 
redeeming influence that saved and guided himm 
the earlier days of his turbulent and passionate 
youth. 

When she died, his grief was so boundless, 
that for months after her decease, he made nightly 
visits to the cemetery where the object of his 
boyish idolatry lay entombed. 

His predisposition to loneliness and melancholy, 
found a welcome outlet here ; and it was on the 
coldest and dreariest nights, when the autumnal 
rains fell, and winds wailed mournfully over the 
graves, that he lingered longest and came away 
most regretfully. 

His boy-love for this lady was the inspiration 
of many of his exquisite creations. Her image, 
long and tenderly cherished, suggested the three 
exquisite stanzas to Helen* which first appeared in 
one of the earlier editions of his poetry, — stanzas 



* Helen, of the poem entitled " The Paean,"' which he sub- 
sequently re-wrote and greatly improved under the now fa- 
miliar name " Lenore," was unquestionably Helen Stannard. 



AT THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. 



33 



written in his youth, which James Russell Lowell 
says have in them a grace and symmetry of out- 
line such as few poets ever attain, and which are 
valuable as displaying "what can only be ex- 
pressed by the contradictory phrase of innate 
experience." 

"In 1822," says Dr. Griswold, "he entered the 
university at Charlottesville, Virginia, where he 
. led a very dissipated life. The manners which 
then prevailed there were extremely dissolute, 
and he was known as the wildest and most reck- 
less student of his class; but his unusual oppor- 
tunities, and the remarkable ease with which he 
mastered the most difficult studies, kept him all 
the while in the first rank for scholarship, and he 
would have graduated with the highest honors,, 
had not his gambling, intemperance and other 
vices induced his expulsion from the university." 

This is all false from beginning to end, and is 
absurd, likewise, on the biographer's own show- 
ing. If Poe was born in 181 1, as "Griswold 
states, he would at this time (1822) have been 
eleven years of age. Rather a precocious age, is 
it not, for one to whom is ascribed the role of a 
rake and a gambler? As a matter of fact, Poe 



34 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



did not enter the university until 1826, being 
then just seventeen years of age. 

The testimony of Dr. S. Maupin, president of 
the University of Virginia, and of Mr. William 
Werten baker, the secretary, effectually ref:tes 
the mendacities of Poe's origin'al biographer upon 
this point. Mr. Wertenbaker writes, — 

" Edgar A. Poe was a student of the University 
of Virginia during the second session, which 
commenced February 1, 1826, and terminated 
December 15 of the same year. • He signed the 
matriculation book on the 16th of February, and 
remained in good standing as a student till the 
session closed. 

"He was born On the 19th of January, 1809, 
being a little under seventeen when he entered 
the institution. He belonged to the school of 
ancient and modern languages, and, as I was 
myself a member of the latter, I can testify that 
he was tolerably regular in attendance, and a 
very successful student, having obtained distinc- 
tion in it in the final examination, — the highest a 
student could then obtain, the present regulation 
in regard to degrees not having been at the time 
adopted. 



TESTIMONT OF THE SECRETARY. 35 

"On one occasion Prof. Batterman requested 
his Italian class to render into English verse a 
portion of the lesson in Tasso, assigned for the 
next lecture. Mr. Poe was the only one who 
complied with the request. He was highly com- 
plimented by the professor for his performance. 
Although I had a passing acquaintance with Mr. 
Poe from an early period of the session, it was 
not till near its close that I had any social inter- 
course with him. 

"After spending an evening together at a pri- 
vate house, he invited me to his room. It was a 
cold night in December, and his fire having gone 
nearly out, by the aid of some candle ends and 
the wreck of a table he soon rekindled it, and by 
its comfortable blaze I spent a very pleasant hour 
with him. On this occasion he spoke with regret 
of the amount of money he had wasted, and the 
debts he had contracted. 

"In a biographical sketch of Mr. Poe, I have 
seen it stated that he was at one time expelled 
from the university, but that he afterwards returned 
and graduated with the highest honors. This is 
entirely a mistake. He spent but one session at 
the university, and at no time did he fall under 



36 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

the censure of the laculty. He was not at that 
time addicted to drinking, but had an ungovern- 
able passion for card-playing. Mr. Poe was older 
than his biographer represents him. His age, I 
have no doubt, was correctly entered on the 
matriculation book." 

In a brief note accompanying the statement of 
the secretary, Mr. Werten baker, the president 
of the university, Mr. S. Maupin, writes, — 

"Mr. Werten baker's statement is full upon all 
the points specified, and is worthy of entire confi- 
dence. I may add that there is nothing in the 
faculty records to the prejudice of Mr. Poe. * 

"He appears to have been a successful student, 
having obtained distinctions in Latin and French 
at the closing examination of 1826. He never 
formally graduated here, no provision for confer- 
ring degrees of any kind having been made at 
the time he was a student here." 

In further confirmation of the correctness of 
Mr. Werten baker's estimate of Poe at this time, 
the following extracts from a manuscript letter, 
written by a schoolmate, Mr. John Willis, of 
Orange County, Virginia, may be cited : 

"Poe'had many noble qualities, and nature had endowed 
him with more of genius, and a far greater diversity of talent, 



SENSITIVENESS OF TEMPERAMENT. 37 

than any other whom it had been my lot to have know a. He 
had a fine talent for drawing, and the walls of his room at col- 
lege were completely covered with his crayon sketches. His 
disposition was rather retiring, and he had few intimate asso- 
ciates, • 

..." I trust you wjll be able to collect enough to vindicate 
the character of Edgar Poe from every aspersion; for, what- 
ever may have been the errors, the misfortunes or the frailties 
of his after-life, in the days of his youth, when first entering 
upon manhood, his bosom was warmed by sentiments of the 
most generous and noble character. 

"Very respectfully yours, 

"JOHN WILLIS." 

That Poe's morbid, sensitive temperament did 
not predispose him to conviviality is, indeed, 
evidenced in some of his partly autobiographical 
stories. His affectionate disposition, indeed, 
found little response, either from his proud yet 
indulgent foster father, or from his youthful play- 
mates ; and it is evident, from reading his own 
description of his isolation at this time, as given 
in "The Black Cat," that he grew up self-ostra- 
cized from most of the usual associations with 
others that are common in childhood. 

"From my infancy I was noted for the docility 
and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness 
of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me 



38 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

the jest of my companions. I was especially 
fond of animals, and was indulged by my par- 
ents with a great variety of pets. Witli these 
I spent most of my time, and never was so happy 
as when feeding and caressing them. 

"This peculiarity grew with my growth, and 
in my manhood I derived from it one of my prin- 
cipal sources of pleasure. 

" To those who have cherished an affection for 
a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at 
the trouble of explaining the nature or the inten- 
sity of the gratification thus derivable. 

" There is something in the unselfish and self- 
sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to 
the heart of him who has had frequent occasion 
to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity 
of mere man." 

Poe, however, was not a morbid recluse. In 
these youthful days we find him emulating the 
daring deeds of his Norman ancestors, in gym- 
nastic feats, that, but for attested documentary 
evidence, would scarcely be credited. 

He was very proud of his athletic achievements, 
as, indeed, he had good reason to be. 

" At one period he was known to leap the dis* 



ATHLETIC ACHIEVEMENTS. 



39 



tance of twenty-one feet six inches, on a dead 
level, with a run of twenty yards. A most re- 
markable swim of his is also on record in the 
columns of the f Richmond Enquirer,' and other 
Richmond papers. It took place in his fifteenth 
year. He swam, on a hot July day, against a 
three-knot tide, from Ludlam's wharf on James 
River, to Warwick — a distance of seven miles 
and a half, — fully equal to thirty miles in still 
water. The impossibility of resting, even for a 
moment, by floating, in a task such as this, ren- 
ders it Herculean, and the feat has never been 
equalled by any one, properly authenticated. 




CHAPTER III. 

EARLY HARDSHIPS. 
1827 — 1-834. 

Home from School — First Quarrel with Mr. Allan — First 
Meeting with Virginia Clemm — A Second Edition of Ju- 
venile Poems — A Griswold Fabrication Disproved — Wil- 
liam Henry Leonard Poe — Poe and the Milford Bard — 
An Amusing Poetic Duel — Poe at West Point — A Third 
Edition of Poems — The True Story of Poe's Dismissal 
from West Point — Another Quarrel with Mr. Allan — 
Second Marriage of Mr. Allan — Poe at Mrs. Clemm's — 
A Lie Refuted — The Baltimore Prizes — Mr. J. H. B. 
Latrobe's Account — Poe and Hewitt — Pen Photograph 
of the Poet at 24 years — "Adventures of Hans Pfaal" — The 
Heir Expectant Left Penniless. 

ETURNING home after completing his 
college career, Poe, like other spoiled 
children of pampering fathers, found 
that the fruits of the heedless indulgence in which 
he had been reared, were not acceptable to his 
foster father, when they came in the guise of 
drafts given to pay gambling debts. 

Mr. Allan declining to pay some of these 
drafts, the high-spirited youth left the Allans' 
house in high dudgeon, and took refuge, for the 

(40) 




ANQTHER VOLUME OF POEMS. 41 

time being, with his father's sister, Mrs. Maria 
Clemm. 

Here he first saw his cousin Virginia, then a 
fairy-like child of six years. He naturally be- 
came interested in his pretty little relative, and 
undertook her education by way of occupation. 
About this time, he published a second edition of 
juvenile poems, his estrangement from his foster 
father and dependence upon his aunt having 
probably suggested the publication.* 

Most authors are more sanguine as to the suc- 
cess of their first book than at a later period, 
when experience has taught them wisdom ; and 
young Poe was, it is presumed, not an exception 
in this respect. 

Griswold writes that Poe, after quitting the 
Allans at. this time, left the country with the 
quixotic intention of joining the Greeks, then in 
the midst of their struggle with the Turks. 

According to this unscrupulous writer, "he 
never reached his destination, and we know but 
little of his adventures in Europe for nearly a 
year. 



* Hatch & Dunning, Baltimore, 1829. 



*2 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



"By the end of this time he had made his way 
to St. Petersburg, and our minister in that capi- 
tal, the late Mr. Henry Middleton, of South 
Carolina, was summoned one morning to save 
him from penalties incurred in a drunken de- 
bauch. Through Mr. Middleton's kindness, he 
was set at liberty and enabled to return ,to this 
country." Whether this is, like other statements 
from this source, a fabrication from beginning to 
end, or takes its color from a story told of an ad- 
venture of William Henry Poe, the brother of 
Edgar, cannot be determined. Certain it is, 
however, that our poet never set foot in Europe 
at all ; his cousin, Mr. Neilson Poe, a prominent 
attorney, now residing in Baltimore, authorizing 
the statement, that to his positive knowledge Poe 
never left America at any time, although his 
brother did make a European trip. 

This brother, William Henry Leonard Poe, 
was a young man of fine appearance, prepos- 
sessing countenance, and an intellectual forehsad. 

A phrenologist at a glance would pronounce 
his head a fine one, although the animal propen- 
sities greatly overbalanced the moral and intel- 
lectual. 



WILLIAM HBA R T LEONARD ROB. 43 

He was a young man of irregular habits, of a 
sanguine temperament, and a poet of some prom- 
ise. He died in early manhood. As it has been 
said, that, had he lived, he would have rivalled his 
more renowned brother, we give some specimens 
of his verse contributed to the "Minerva," a 
weekly paper conducted by Mr. J. H. Hewitt, of 
Baltimore : 



TO 



A bitter tear for thee is shed, 

Friend of my soul, fair child of feeling ! 
The hopes that once existence fed, 
Now live no more ; the heart that bled 

For thee in self-contempt congealing. 
Twine not for me a roseate wreath, — 

'T will wither on the brow of care ; 
But cull from the silent bed of death, 

Blossoms that flourish sadly there ; 
Sighs may expand their hour of bloom, 
Tears make them glitter through the gloom, 

But oh ! the light of smiles may blight 
The tender blossoms of the tomb. 

Go, and in fashion's plumage gay, 

Though it was won by years of sorrow, 

Pluck care from out thy soul, and say, 
" I'll wear the smile of joy to-day, 

Though anguish wring my heart to-morrow. 



44 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

And with thee take my heart ; 't is thine, 
Though guilty and too frail to trust ; 

While I, alone, unknown, shall pine 
And banquet on my soul's disgust. 

Live, if thou canst, devoid of art, 

Rich in pure tenderness of heart, 
And on thy way may Virtue's ray 

With all its soft effulgence dart. 

Farewell ! thy face is clouded now, 

But soon a thousand smiles will flutter 
Around thy lips, and that proud brow 
Shall wear away the plighted vow 

Thy lying lips now softly utter. 
Go, and a heaven of peace be thine, 

The fairest flowers the eye can find ] 
Be on thy path ; should mem'ry shine 

Upon the friend thou lea vest behind, 
Give to his fate a heartfelt tear, 
But still let pleasure's sunshine peer 

Upon thy heart, where'er thou art, — 
It will not make thy form less dear. 



TO MINNIE. 

The rose that gloried on your breast, 
And drew life from your glowing heart, 

Has oft to mine been closely pressed, 
Too close, too fondly e'er to part. 



CRUDITY OF EARL Y POEMS. 45 

Why did you spurn it from its home 
The sunshine of those sparkling eyes? 

Tis near my h'eart, yet will not bloom, 
But withers in my tears and sighs. 

Although its perfume still remains, 

Yet every leaf conceals a thorn ; 
Just like the heart in sorrow's chains 

When every ray of hope is gone. 

And like that rose, affection wears, 

At first, a tint as pure and gay, 
Till 'neath the tide of worldly cares, 

Its smiles of beauty fade away. 

But still behind it leaves a pain, 

A quick and penetrating smart, 
The thorns of blasted hope remain, 

And pierce the sad and broken heart. 

The publication of Poe's book of verses excited 
no especial public comment at the time of their 
issue. 

There were, in fact, but two literary journals 
in Baltimore at this time, and the only paper 
that noticed the work critically, "The Minerva," 
handled it rather roughly. Many of the verses 
were crude to a degree, and the enterprise that 
has led to their recent republication, contrary to 



46 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

the expressed dictum of the poet, seems incom- 
prehensible. 

An amusing episode", connected with the career 
of the young poet at this time, is narrated by a 
Baltimore acquaintance of Poe. The " Milford 
Bard," who flourished in Baltimore in these days, 
was an M.D., upon whom the muses had, it is 
said, looked with some favor. His verses, how- 
ever, were couched in a most erratic vein. 

The Bard wrote a great number of fugitive 
pieces in poetry and prose, which appeared in 
the local journals of the day. 

He was very jealous of Edgar Poe, and endeav- 
ored, to the best of his ability, to depreciate him 
in the estimation of the reading public. 

He indulged in alcoholic potations, and, not 
infrequently, would, under this influence, commit 
acts which would cause him deep mortification in 
his sober moments. 

One day, while Poe was poring over some 
books at his publisher's store, the "Bard" entered, 
shabbily dressed and with unsteady gait. 

The poets were unacquainted personally, and 
did not recognize each other. 

The Bard was loquacious and consequential, 
after the manner of men in his condition. 



FOE AND THE MIL FORD BARD. 47 

"How does my volume go off?" atjked the 
Bard of the bookseller. 

"Pretty fairly, considering all things," was the 
reply. 

" Considering all things !• What do you mean by 
that?" asked the inebriated rhymester. 

"Why, in the first place, the shockingly bad 
likeness that disfigures the book is complained 
of," responded the merchant. "The ladies say 
it is nothing at all like you — not handsome 
enough. In the second place, the publication 
does no credit to the printer." 

"It is a confounded sight neater work than 
Poe's," rejoined the Bard. "That fellow, con- 
scious of his ugliness, hadn't the temerity to put 
his phiz in his book, for fear that it might injure 
the sale of it. Besides being neater, my volume 
contains true poetry; whereas Poe's " 

Here the bookseller, perceiving the threatening 
storm, vainly endeavored to check the garrulous 
braggart; but the Bard had got upon his pet 
hobby, and he must needs ride it to the end. 

"Who's this Poe, anyhow?" continued he ; "an 
upstart, at best. Here have I been writing for 
}^ears, and what's my reward? Rags and star- 



48 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

vation ! Why, sir, there's not a particle of 
genius in the man ; his ideas are wild and discon- 
nected; his verses hobble, and there's nothing in 
them that can for a moment excite the sympathy 
of the reader. Pooh ! talk about Poe being a 
true poet. He may Poe it all his life, and die 
forgotten." 

The Bard wound up breathless at last, by ask- 
ing the bookseller to advance him some money 
on the sales of his book, as he had not eaten a 
morsel of food for two days. 

Poe had listened to the abuse of the maudlin 
M.D., and as he stopped at last, he threw down 
the book he had been pretending to peruse, and 
stepping up to his rival, with face glowing with 
indignation, addressed him : • 

"You are the Milford Bard, I presume, sir." 

"That's me," answered the Bard; "and I ex- 
pect you are Edgar Poe." 

"Exactly so," was the rejoinder. "Now, sir, 
let me enlighten you on one point on which you 
appear to be totally ignorant. 

" Nature rather missed it when she attempted to 
instil into your brain even a moiety of true poetry. 
Write on, and flood the world with your trash, 



A POETIC DUEL. 49 

but don't attempt to pass judgment on the efforts 
of others. You are a worse judge than poet. 
The Creator didn't intend you should be either." 

The Bard cowered beneath the withering 
glance of his high-spirited young rival, but, put- 
ting on a swaggering air, he retorted, " I'll bet 
ycu five dollars I can write more stanzas in one 
hour than you can in a whole day." . 

Young Poe's lip curled in scorn, although he 
seemed half-inclined to pity the wretched inebri- 
ate, who, with his hands crammed into his pock- 
ets, and an ineffably stupid expression upon his 
face, stood swaying from one side to the other. 

" I don't think you have five cents to lose, 
much less five dollars," he replied; "but," with a 
wink to the bookseller, "I'll accept your chal- 
lenge." 

"Done ! " shouted the Bard. 

Pencil and paper were furnished, and the 
rivals began the tournament of rhymes. 

The Bard was strong on his rhyme, although 
as much cannot be said for his reason. Poe 
wrote poetry. The Bard wrote the veriest non- 
sense ; but in quantity he tipped the scale. When 
the particulars of this unique contest got abroad, 



5o 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



there was many a gibe cracked at the young poet's 
expense, among the litterateurs of Baltimore* 

In February, 1829, Poe, learning of the mortal 
sickness of his adopted mother, Mrs. Allan, hast- 
ened to Richmond. He was too late to take a 
last farewell of her, death having claimed her 
before the poet had reached his former home. 

His visit to the Allan's house seems, however, 
for the time being, to have reconciled Mr. Allan 
to Poe, and, through his foster father's influence, 
a nomination to a scholarship at West Point was 
obtained. 

Poe entered the military academy at West 
Point on the 1st of July, 1830. 

For a time he pursued the exacting course of 
studies with enthusiasm, headed every class, and 
seemed delighted with everything. 

But soon the unvarying discipline and irk- 
some routine work began to tell upon his sensi- 
tive organization, and he chafed under his re- 
straint with ill-concealed impatience. 

During this restless period of his sojourn at 
West Point, he published a third and enlarged 
edition of his juvenile poems.* 



* E. Bliss, New York, 183 1. 



A THIRD EDITION OF POEMS. 



51 



The volume was dedicated to the "United 
States Corps of Cadets," and although ridiculed 
by the embryo warriors, was quite generally 
subscribed for by them at the tolerably high figure 
of $2.50 for a copy of the book, which was a 
very thin i2mo of 124 pages, printed on paper 
of a dirty-brown shade. 

General Geo. W. Callum, of the United States 
army, who was a cadet in the class below Poe 
at this time, writes of him, "He was a heedless 
boy, very eccentric, and of course preferred 
writing verses to solving equations. 

" While at the academy, he published a small 
volume of poems dedicated to Bulwer, in a long 
random letter. These verses were the source of 
great merriment with us boys, who considered 
the author cracked, and the verses ridiculous 
doggerel. 

"Even after the lapse of forty years, I can now 
recall these lines from ' Isabel : ' 

" ' Was not that a fairy ray, Isabel? 
How fantastically it fell, 
With a spiral twist and a swell, 

And over the wet grass rippled away. 
Like the tinkling of a bell.'" 



52 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



His early training, with the petted indulgences 
of his childhood days, were little calculated to 
prepare him for the strict regime of our severest 
military school, and he gradually lost his interest 
in study there, became abstracted, and shirked 
his military duties as persistently as he had fol- 
lowed them at first. 

Finding himself thus totally unadapted, by 
training and temperament, to the exigencies of 
the place, he determined to leave it. 

At West Point it is necessary, in order to 
achieve such a step, to obtain permission from 
the parent or guardian. For this permission, 
Poe wrote to Mr. Allan, who flatly refused it; 
this refusal Mr. Poe presented to Col. Tr^er, 
the superintendent of the " Post," who declined 
interfering with the rules, or to accept the resig- 
nation. This was about the period that Poland 
made the desperate and unfortunate struggle for 
independence, against the combined powers of 
Russia, Austria and Prussia, which terminated 
in the capitulation of Warsaw, and the annihila- 
tion of the kingdom. All the cadet's former 
chivalric vigor had now returned, and with in- 
creased vigor. He burned to be a participant in 



TRUE STORY OF POE AT WEST POINT. 53 

the affray. But to do this, it was doubly neces- 
sary to leave West Point. There was one re- 
source yet left him ; this he took. He positively 
refused to do duty of any kind, disobeyed all 
orders, and, keeping closely to his quarters, 
amused himself with caricaturing and pasquin- 
ading the professors. There was a gentleman 
named Joseph Locke, who had made himself 
especially obnoxious, through his pertinacity in 
reporting the pranks of the cadets. At West 
Point a report is no every-day matter, but a very 
serious thing. Each "report" counts a certain 
number against the offender, is charged to his 
account, and when the whole exceeds a stated 
sum, he is liable to dismissal. Poe at this 
time, it seems, wrote a lengthy and audacious 
lampoon against this Mr. Locke, of which the 
following are the only stanzas preserved : — 

"As for Locke, he is all in my eye, 

May the devil right soon for his soul call. 

He never was known to lie 
In bed at a reveille roll-call. 

"John Locke was a notable name : 

Joe Locke is a greater ; in short, 

' The former is well known to fame, 

But the latter's well known to report" 



54 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



The result of this was just what Poe intended 
it should be. For some time Colonel Thayer, to 
whose good offices the young cadet had been 
personally recommended by General Scott, over- 
looked these misdemeanors. But at length, the 
matter becoming too serious, charges were insti- 
tuted against Poe for " neglect of duty, and disobe- 
dience of orders" (nothing was said about the 
lampoons) , and he was tried by a court-martial. 
There were innumerable specifications, to all of 
which, by way of saving time, he pleaded guilty, 
although some of them were thoroughly absurd. 
In a word, he was cashiered nem. con., and went 
on his way rejoicing. 

But not, however, to Poland. The capitula- 
tion had been effected, and that unfortunate 
country was no more. 

In spite of statements to the contrary, Poe at 
this time returned to Mr. Allan's house at Rich- 
mond, and was received by him. Here he met 
a Miss Royster, to whom he paid attentions, 
which were favorably received by the lady. 
But Mr. Allan was determinedly opposed to the 
match, and a furious quarrel, on this account, 
occurred between Poe and his foster father. 



SERIOUS QUARREL WITH MR. ALLAN 55 

Poe again left Mr. Allan's house, and took 
refuge with his aunt, Mrs. Clemm. Shortly after 
the breach between Mr. Allan and Poe, the poet 
was amazed by the intelligence that his foster 
father had married a beautiful young lady, a 
Miss Patterson, of Richmond. 

Dr. Griswold, with a semblance of shame that 
is unaccountable as emanating from him, relates, 
in a learned foot-note in his memoir, full of 
dark suggestions, quoted liberally from Sir 
Thomas Browne, that there is another side to the 
story of the final quarrel between Mr. Allan and 
Poe, in which Miss Patterson is supposed to 
figure. We regard this innuendo as perhaps the 
most diabolical of the many unjustifiable be- 
smirchings which Griswold has heaped upon 
Poe ; for, whatever may have been the poet's 
faults, that he was chaste as ice, all competent 
authorities unite in attesting. Honisoit qui mal y 
pense. He was romantic, chivalrous, not sensual. 

But Griswold was a sensualist and a libertine 
of a very low order. He knew no standard of 
morality higher than his own. 

With the birth of a son to Mr. Allan by his 
second wife, Poe's hopes of inheriting received a 



56 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

final blow, and in the congenial society of his 
aunt and his fairy cousin Virginia, to whom he 
was destined to be a Paul, he devoted himself to 
literary work, not at the outset, it would seem, 
for profit, but as a diversion for his otherwise 
idle hours. 

Until very recently, the whereabouts of Poe 
during this period have been veiled from his 
biographers, and the gap left unfilled until now, 
except by the mendacities of Dr. Griswold. The 
doctor, not having any facts at hand to mortise 
into this gap, comes to the rescue of his impotent 
researches, and, after his usual manner, placidly 
invents another piece of defamatory fiction. 

"His contributions," says Dr. Griswold, "at- 
tracted little attention, and his hopes of gaining 
a living in this way being disappointed, he en- 
listed in the army as a private soldier. How 
long he remained in the army I have not been 
able to ascertain. He was recognized by officers 
who had known him at West Point, and efforts 
were made privately, but with prospects, to 
obtain for him a commission, when it was dis- 
covered by his friends that he had deserted." 
The facts are, on the written testimony of Mrs. 






A LIE REFUTED. 57 

Clemm, that at this time his friends were seeking 
for him a commission, and it is folly to believe, 
when the prospects were favorable for his secur- 
ing a higher position, that he would have enlisted 
as a private, and thus deliberately and unneces- 
sarily have incurred the penalty and disgrace of 
desertion. That Mrs. Clemm, at least, was in 
full knowledge of his whereabouts at this time, 
is evidant from her statement made in this regard, 
that Poe never slept one night away from home 
until after he was married. It is futile to say, as 
one of Poe's friendly contemporaries has said, 
that such an audacious rumor should never have 
obtained admission into a memoir of Poe, and 
that it never would have done so, had proper 
inquiries been made. Griswold never cared to 
make inquiries ; and if he had, he was not the 
man ever to have made proper inquiries. 

An important event in the poet's life was 
his appearance as a competitor for the prizes 
offered by the proprietor of the "Saturday 
Visitor," at Baltimore. The prizes were, one 
for the best tale and one for the best poem. 
Dr. Griswold states that, attracted by the beau- 
ty of Poe's penmanship, the committee, with- 



58 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

out opening any of the other manuscripts, voted 
unanimously that the prizes should be paid to 
"the first of geniuses who had written legibly." 
On the contrary, there appeared in the "Visitor," 
after the awards were made, complimentary 
comments over the committee's own signatures. 
They said, among other things, that all the tales 
offered by Poe were far better than the best 
offered by others ; adding "that they thought it a 
duty to call public attention to them in these col- 
umns in that marked manner, since they possessed 
a singular force and beauty, and were £minently 
distinguished by a rare, vigorous and poetical 
imagination, a rich style, a fertile invention and 
varied and curious learning." 

The committee comprised three of the most 
prominent citizens of Baltimore at that time, 
Messrs. John P. Kennedy, James H. Miller and 
J. H. B. Latrobe. 

The story of this award and its sequence has 
been graphically related by Mr. Latrobe, who 
is now a hale old gentleman of seventy-six 
years, 

We had the pleasure of hearing the following 
narrative from Mr. Latrobe's own lips : — 



THE BAL TIMORE PRIZES. 59 

"About the year 1832, there was a newspaper 
in Baltimore, called f Saturday Review' — an 
ephemeral publication, that aimed at amusing its 
readers with light literary productions rather than 
the news of the day. One of its efforts was to 
produce original tales ; and to this end it offered 
on this occasion two prizes, one for the best 
story and the other for the best short poem — one 
hundred dollars for the first, and fifty dollars for the 
last. The judges appointed by the editor of the 
'Visitor' were the late John P. Kennedy, Dr. 
James H. Miller (now deceased) and myself, 
and accordingly we met, one pleasant afternoon, 
in the back parlor of my house on Mulberry 
Street, and, seated round a table garnished with 
some old wine and some good cigars, commenced 
our critical labors. As I happened then to be 
the youngest of the three, I was required to open 
the packages of prose and poetry, respectively, 
and read the contents. Alongside of me was a 
basket to hold what we might reject. 

"I remember well that the first production taken 
from the top of the prose pile was in a woman's 
hand, written very distinctly, as, indeed, were 
all the articles submitted, and so neatly that it 



60 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

seemed a pity not to award to it a prize. It was 
ruthlessly criticized, however, for it was ridicu- 
lously bad — namby-pamby in the extreme — full 
of sentiment, and of the school then known as 
the Laura Matilda school. The first page would 
htve consigned it to the basket as our critical 
guillotine beheaded it. Gallantry, however, 
caused it to be read through, when in it went, 
along with the envelope containing the name of 
the writer, which, of course, remained unknown. 
The next piece I have no recollection of, except 
that a dozen lines consigned it to the basket. I 
remember that the third, perhaps the fourth, pro- 
duction was recognized as a translation from the 
French, with a terrific denouement. It was a 
poor translation, too ; for, falling into literal ac- 
curacy, the writer had, in many places, followed 
the French idioms. The story was- not without 
merit, but the Sir Fretful Plagiary of a translator 
described the charge of Sheridan in the f Critic,' 
of being like a beggar who had stolen another 
man's child and clothed it in his own rags. Of 
the remaining productions I have no recollection. 
Some were condemned after a few sentences had 
been read. Some were laid aside for reconsid- 



SPECIMENS OF PRIZE COMPOSITIONS. 61 

eration — not many. These last failed to pass 
muster afterwards, and the committee had about 
made up their minds that there was nothing be- 
fore them to which they would award a prize, 
when I noticed a small quarto-bound book that 
had until then accidentally escaped attention, 
possibly because so unlike, externally, the bun- 
dles of manuscript that it had to compete with. 
Opening it, an envelope with a motto corre- 
sponding with one in the book appeared, and we 
found that our prose examination was still incom- 
plete. Instead of the common cursive manu- 
script, the writing was in Roman characters — an 
imitation of printing. I remember that while 
reading the first page to myself, Mr. Kennedy 
and the doctor had filled their glasses and lit 
their cigars, and when I said that we seemed at 
last to have a prospect of awarding the prize, they 
laughed as though they doubted it, and settled 
themselves in their comfortable chairs as I began 
to read. I had not proceeded far, before my col- 
leagues became as much interested as myself. 
The first tale finished, I went to the second, then 
to the next, and did not stop until I had gone 
through the volume, interrupted only by such 



62 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

exclamations as f Capital ! ' ' Excellent ! ' ' How 
odd ! ' and the like from my companions. There 
was genius in everything they listened to ; there 
was no uncertain grammar, no feeble phrase- 
ology, no ill-placed punctuation, no worn-out 
truisms, no strong thought elaborated into weak- 
ness. Logic and imagination were combined in 
rare consistency. Sometimes the writer created 
in his mind a world of his own, and then de- 
scribed it — a world so weird, so strange — 

' Far down by the dim lake of Auber ; 
In the misty mid-region of Wier ; 
Far down by the dank tarn of Auber, 
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Wier ' — 

and withal so fascinating, so wonderfully graph- 
ic, that it seemed for the moment to have all 
the truth of a reality. There was an analysis 
of complicated facts — an unravelling of circum- 
stantial evidence that won the lawyer judges 
— an amount of accurate scientific knowledge 
that charmed their accomplished colleague — a 
pure classic diction that delighted all three. 

"When the reading Was completed, there was a 
difficulty of choice. Portions of the tales were 
read again, and finally the committee selected 



THE SUCCESSFUL STORIES. 63 

f A MS. found in a Bottle.' One of the series 
was called c A Descent into the Maelstrom,' and 
this was at one time preferred. I cannot now 
recall the names of all the tales. There must 
have been six or eight. But all the circum- 
stances of the selection ultimately made, have 
been so often since referred to in conversation, 
that my memory has been kept fresh, and I see 
my fellow-judges over their wine and cigars, in 
their easy-chairs — both genial, hearty men, in 
pleasant mood, as distinctly now as though I 
were describing an event of yesterday. 

"Having made the selection and awarded the 
one hundred dollar prize, not, as has been said 
most unjustly and ill-naturedly, because the man- 
uscript was legible, but because of the unques- 
tionable genius and great originality of the writer, 
we were at liberty to open the envelope that 
identified him, and there we found in the note, 
whose motto corresponded with that of the little 
volume, the name, which I see you anticipate, of 
Edgar Allan Poe. 

"The statement of Dr. Griswold's life, prefixed 
to the common edition of Poe's works, that f it 
was unanimously decided by the committee that 



64 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

the prize should be given to the first genius who 
had written legibly — not another MS. was un- 
folded,' is absolutely untrue. 

"Refreshed by this most unexpected change 
in the character of the contributions, the com- 
mittee refilled their glasses and relit their cigars, 
and the reader began upon the poetry. This, 
although better in the main than the prose, was 
bad enough, and when we had gone more or 
less thoroughly over the pile of manuscript, two 
pieces only were deemed worthy of considera- 
tion. The title of one was 'The Colisseum,' the 
written printing of which told that it was Poe's. 
The title of the other I have forgotten : but upon 
opening the accompanying envelope we found 
that the author was Mr. John H. Hewitt, still 
living in Baltimore, and well known, I believe, 
in the musical world, both as a poet and com- 
poser. T am not prepared to say that the com- 
mittee may not have been biased in awarding 
the fifty dollar prize to Mr. Hewitt by the fact 
that they had already given the one hundred 
dollar prize to Mr. Poe. I recollect, however, 
that we agreed that, under the circumstances, 
the excellence of Mr. Hewitt's poem deserved a 



POE AND HE WITT. 6$ 

reward, and we gave the smaller prize to him 
with clear consciences. 

"I believe that up to this time not one of the 
committee had ever seen Mr. Poe, and it is my 
impression that I was the only one that had ever 
heard of him. When his name was read, I re- 
membered that on one occasion Mr. Wm. Gwynn, 
a prominent member of the bar of Baltimore, 
had shown me the very neat manuscript of a 
poem called ' Al Aaraaf,' which he spoke of as 
indicative of a tendency to anything but the busi- 
ness of matter-of-fact life. Those of my hear- 
ers who are familiar with the poet's works will 
recollect it as one of his earlier productions. 
Although Mr. Gwynn, being an admirable law- 
yer, was noted as the author of wise and witty 
epigrams in verse, * Al Aaraaf was not in his 
vein, and what he said of the writer had not pre- 
pared me for the productions before the commit- 
tee. His name, I am sure, was not at the time a 
familiar one. 

"The' next number of the f Saturday Visitor' 
contained the 'MS. found in a Bottle,' and 
announced the author. My office, in those days, 
was in the building still occupied by the Mechan- 



66 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

ics' Bank, and I was seated at my desk, on the 
Monday following the publication of the tale, 
when a gentleman entered and introduced him- 
self as the writer, saying that he came to thank 
me, as one of the committee, for the award in his 
favor. Of this interview, the only one I ever had 
with Mr. Poe, my recollection is very distinct 
indeed, and it requires but a small effort of imagi- 
nation to place him before me now as plainly 
almost as I see any one of my audience. He 
was, if anything, below the middle size, and yet 
could not be described as a small man. His fig- 
ure was remarkably good, and he carried himself 
erect and well, as one who had been trained to 
it. He was dressed in black, and his frock coat 
was buttoned to his throat, where it met the 
black stock, then almost universally worn. Not 
a particle of white was visible. Coat, hat, boots 
and gloves had very evidently seen their best 
days, but so far as mending and brushing go, 
everything had been done, apparently, to make 
them presentable. On most men his clothes 
would have looked shabby and seedy ; but there 
was something about this man that prevented one 
from criticizing his garments, and the details I 



PEN PHOTOGRAPH OF POE AT 24. 6j 

have mentioned were only recalled afterwards. 
The impression made, however, was that the 
award made in Mr. Poe's favor was not inoppor- 
tune. Gentleman was written all over him. His 
manner was easy and quiet, and although he 
came to return thanks for what he regarded as 
deserving them, there was nothing obsequious in 
what he said or did. His features I am unable 
to describe in detail. His forehead was high, 
and remarkable for the great development of the 
temple. This was the characteristic of his head 
which you noticed at once, and which I have 
never forgotten. The expression of his face was 
grave, almost sad, except when he was engaged 
in conversation, when it became animated and 
changeable. His voice, I remember, was very 
pleasing in its tone, and well modulated, almost 
rhythmical, and his words were well chosen and 
unhesitating. Taking a seat, we conversed a 
while on ordinary topics, and he informed me 
that Mr. Kennedy, my colleague in the commitee, 
on whom he had already called, had either given 
or promised to give him a letter to the f Southern 
Literary Messenger,' which he hoped would 
procure him employment. I asked him whether 



6S LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

he was then occupied with any literary labor. 
He replied that he was engaged on a voyage to 
the moon ; and at once went into a somewhat 
learned disquisition upon the laws of gravity, the 
height of the earth's atmosphere, and the capa- 
cities of balloons, warming in his speech as he 
proceeded. Presently, speaking in the first per- 
son, he began the voyage. After describing ths 
preliminary arrangements, as you will find them 
set forth in one of his tales called 'Adventures of 
one Hans Pfaal,' and leaving the earth, and be- 
coming more and more animated, he described his 
sensations as he ascended higher and higher, 
until at last he reached the point in space where 
the moon's attraction overcame that of the earth, 
when there was a sudden bouleversement of the 
car, and a great confusion among its tenants. By 
this time the speaker had become so excited, 
spoke so rapidly, gesticulating much, that when 
the turn-upside-down took place, and he clapped 
his hands and stamped with his foot, by way of 
emphasis, I was carried along with him, and, for 
aught to the contrary that I now remember, may 
have fancied myself the companion of his aerial 
journey. The climax of the tale was the reversal 



POE AND HEWITT. 69 

I have mentioned. When he had finished his 
description, he apologized for his excitability, 
which he laughed at himself. The conversation 
then turned upon other subjects, and soon after- 
ward he took his leave. I never saw him more. 
Dr. Gri'swold's statement that c Mr. Kennedy 
accompanied him (Poe) to a clothing store and 
purchased for him a respectable suit, with a 
change of linen, and sent him to a bath,' is a 
sheer fabrication." 

In the Mr. Kennedy of this jovial committee, 
Poe found a friend, who continued one of the 
poet's staunchest supporters to the day of his 
death. 

At this time he attended to Poe's material needs, 
gave him free access to his home and its comforts, 
the use of a horse for exercise when required, and . 
lifted him out of the depths into which his de- 
pression and disappointments had sunk him. 
Mr. Hewitt relates that Poe visited the office of 
the "Minerva," after the announcement of the 
prizes, and besought him to waive his claim to 
the prize, but to receive the money, which Poe 
was willing he should have. He only wanted 
the honors, w r hich, he had been informed, he 



^o LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

had fairly earned, for his poetry as well as for 
his prose. Mr. Hewitt did not, of course, defer 
to this pardonable but extraordinary request, and 
Poe's first laurel wreath was robbed of a bright 
leaf. 

In 1834, Mr. Allan died, leaving an infant 
child, who supplanted Poe in his expected heir- 
ship. 

Not a penny was left to the heir expectant, 
who had been permitted to grow to manhood, fed 
with the delusive hopes that, at the most critical 
period of his life, turned to dust and ashes, and 
left him to the mercies of an uncharitable and 
unsympathizing world. 







CHAPTER IV. 

BEGINNING A LITERARY CAREER. 

1834- l8 3 8. 

First Contributions to Periodicals — Engagement with the 
" Southern Literary Messenger" — Griswold's Pettiness — 
Critical Reviews — J. K. Paulding's Encomiums — Mar- 
• riage with his cousin, Virginia Clemm — Melancholy in 
Solitude — Susceptibility to Drink — Innocence of Motive — 
Withdrawal from the " Messenger" — Engagement on the 
"New York Quarterly Review"— Mr. William Gowans' 
Reviews — A Notable Review — First Prose Book, "Ar 
thur Gordon Pym" — Its success in England. 




HILE in Baltimore at this time, Poe 
wrote and published several reviews and 
stories, among which was the " Hans 
Pfaal," mentioned by Mr. Latrobe, which Gris- 
wold leaves us to infer is an imitation of Locke's 
celebrated moon hoax ; whereas Poe's story ap 
peared three weeks before Locke's story saw the 
light. 

During this year (1834), Mr. Thomas W. 
White, of Richmond, launched a new literary 
enterprise, n The Southern Literary Messenger." 

(70 



7 2 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



Mr. Kennedy was among the number invited 
to contribute to the pages of the new magazine. • 

Mr. Kennedy's time did not, however, admit 
of his acceptance of Mr. White's offer; but he 
did not lose the opportunity to recommend his 
protege to apply as his substitute. 

That Poe was successful in his application to 
Mr. White, is well known. 

"The poet sent several specimens of his lit- 
erary work, and in March, 1835, one °f them, 
" Berenice," was published. 

Mr. White was so well pleased with Poe's con- 
tributions, that he made Poe an offer to come to 
Richmond, to undertake a department on the 
magazine. 

In response to this proposition the poet wrote : 

"You ask me if I would be willing to come on to Rich- 
mond if jou should have occasion for my services during the 
coming winter. I reply that nothing would give me greater 
pleasure. I have been desirous for some time past of paying 
a visit to Richmond, and would be glad of any reasonable ex- 
cuse for so doing. Indeed, I am anxious to settle myself in 
that city, and if, by any chance, jou hear of a situation likely 
to suit me, I would gladly accept it, were the salary even the 
merest trifle. I should, indeed, feel myself greatly indebted 
to you if, through your means, I could accomplish this object. 
What you say in the conclusion of your letter, in relation to 



GRIS WOLD'S PETTINESS. 



73 



the supervision of proof-sheets, gives me reason to hope that 
possibly you might find something for me to do in your office. 
If so, I should be very glad, for at present only a very small 
portion of my time is employed." 

Mr. Kennedy, in response to a letter of inquiry 
from Mr. White, had previously written, — 

"Dear Sir, — Poe did right in referring to me. He is very 
clever with his pen — classical and scholarlike. He wants 
experience and direction, but I have no doubt he can be made 
very useful to you ; and, poor fellow ! he is very poor. I told 
him to write something for every number of your magazine, 
and that you might find it to your advantage to give him some 
permanent employ. He has a volume of very bizarre tales in 

the hands of in Philadelphia, who for a year past has 

been promising to publish them. This young fellow is highly 
imaginative, and a little given to the terrific. He is at work 
upon a tragedy, but I have turned him to drudging upon 
whatever may make money, and I have no doubt you and he 
will find your account in each other." 

An amusing instance of Griswold's pettiness, 
and want of common-sense judgment even, in 
his endeavor to demean the position and char- 
acter of his subject as much as possible, is found 
in the following paragraph in the biography. 
Speaking of the poet's connection with the " Lit- 
erary Messenger," he writes, "In the next num- 
ber of the 'Messenger,' Mr. White announced 



74 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



that Poe was its editor, or, in other words, that 
he had made arrangements with a gentleman of 
approved literary taste and attainments, to whose 
especial management the editorial department 
would be confided, and 'it was declared that this 
gentleman would f devote his exclusive attention to 
his work.'" Having put this down in black and 
white, following his statement that Mr. White 
was a man of much purity of character, the re- 
doubtable biographer evidently feels that he has 
set Poe up a peg too high, and immediately 
planes him down to an endurable level in the 
next sentence : " Poe continued, however, to re- 
side in Baltimore, and it is probable that he was 
engaged only as a general contributor and writer 
of critical notices of books." Apropos of these 
book reviews, Dr. Griswold dismisses them as 
follows : " He continued in Baltimore till Sep- 
tember. In this period he wrote several long 
reviews, which for the most part were abstracts 
of works, rather than critical discussions." As a 
matter of fact, the "Messenger" was in its seventh 
month, with about four hundred subscribers, when 
Poe assumed the editorship. Poe remained with 
this journal until the end of its second year, by 



CRITICAL REVIEWS. 



IS 



which time its circulation had been increased 
fourfold. A contemporary of Poe writes that 
" the success of the ? Messenger ' has been justly 
attributable to Poe's exertions on its behalf, but 
especially to the skill, honesty and audacity of 
the criticism under the editorial head. The re- 
view of f Norman Leslie ' may be said to have 
introduced a new era in our critical literature." 

This review was followed up continuously by 
others of equal force and character. Of the re- 
view of Drake and Halleck, Mr. J. K. Paulding 
says, in a private letter, " I think it one of the 
finest specimens of criticism ever published in 
this country." 

But Griswold could see nothing in Poe's book 
reviews of which he cared to speak, for reasons 
which will be apparent later. 

On the eve of setting out for Richmond, the 
poet, who felt that his prospects in life had now 
become permanently settled, married his cousin, 
Virginia Clemm, in whom he had manifested a 
tender interest since his first meeting with her. 

He had interested himself in educating her 
when she was but ten years of age, and now at 



76 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

fourteen, she was intellectually, maturely devel- 
oped. 

Poe's relatives, both on his side and that of the 
wife, opposed this match, for the lady was very 
delicate and already marked as a victim to con- 
sumption, which prevailed in the family. But 
this modern Paul and his Virginia were not to be 
separated without taking upon themselves firmer 
ties than those of mere friendship, and they were 
duly married in Baltimore, although they did not 
live together until a year later, when, in defer- 
ence to the wishes of the family, they were re- 
married in Richmond, by the late Rev. John 
Johns, Bishop of Virginia. 

In his solitary moments, while separated from 
his beloved child-wife, Poe seems to have been 
deeply afflicted with the despairing melancholy 
which, in his later years, wrought upon him the 
direst effects. At this time he wrote to his friend, 
Mr. Kennedy, as follows : — 

Richmond, September u, 1835. 

Dear Sir, — I received a letter from Dr. Miller, in which he 
tells me you are in town. 

I hasten, therefore, to write you and express by letter what 
I have always found it impossible to express orally, — my deep 



MELANCHOLY IN SOLITUDE. 77 

sense of gratitude for your frequent and ineffectual assistance 
and kindness. 

Through jour influence, Mr. White has been induced to 
employ me in assisting him in with the editorial duties of his 
magazine, at a salary of five hundred and twenty dollars per 
annum. 

The situation is agreeable to me for many reasons, but, 
alas ! it appears to me that nothing can give me pleasure or 
the slightest gratification. 

Excuse me, my dear sir, if in this letter you find much in- 
coherency ; my feelings, at this moment, are pitiable indeed. 

I am suffering under a depression of spirits such as I have 
never felt before. I have struggled in vain against the influ- 
ence of this melancholy; you -will believe me when I say 
that I am still miserable, in spite of the great improvement 
in my circumstances. I say you will believe me, and for this 
simple reason, that a man who is writing for effect, does not 
write thus. My heart is open before you ; if it be worth read- 
ing, read it. I am wretched, and know not why. Console 
me ! for you can. But let it be quickly, or it will be too late. 
Write me immediately; convince me that it is worth one's 
while — that it is at all necessary — to live, and you will prove 
yourself indeed my friend. Persuade me to do what is right. 
I do mean this. I do not mean that you should consider what 
I now write you a jest. Oh, pity me! for I feel that my words 
are incoherent; but I will recover myself. You will not fail 
to see that I am suffering under a depression of spirits which 
will ruin me should it be long continued. Write me, then, 
and quickly ; urge me to do what is right. Your words will 
have more weight with me than the words of others, for yo x 
were my friend when no one else was. Fail not, as you value 
your peace of mind hereafter. E. A. Poe. 



jS LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

How little the peculiar temperament of Poe 
was understood by those with whom he was 
associated, and how little of that precious sympa- 
thy for which his sensitive soul pined was vouch- 
safed him, is evident from the following matter- 
of-fact, but kindly intended, letter from his best 
friend, in answer to his despairing pkint : — 

"I am sorry to see you in such plight as your letter shows 
you in. It is strange that just at this time, when everybody 
is praising you, and when fortune is beginning to smile upon 
your hitherto wretched circumstances, you should be invaded 
by these blue-devils. It belongs, however, to your age and 
temper to be thus buffeted — but be assured, it only wants a 
little resolution to master the adversary forever. You will 
doubtless do well henceforth in literature, and add to your 
comforts as well as to your reputation, which, it gives me 
great pleasure to assure you, is everywhere rising in populai 
esteem." 

During this period of isolation, Poe's suscepti- 
bility to the influence of drink became manifest. 

The subject of Poe's alleged intemperance is 
one that has given rise to an amount of righteous 
condemnation that would have overwhelmed and 
obliterated the reputation of an ordinary writer. 

Mr. N. P. Willis writes, "We heaid from one 
who knew him well (what should be stated in all 



SUSCEPTIBILITY TO DRINK. 



79 



mention of his lamentable irregularities), that 
with a single glase of wine his whole nature was 
reversed; the demon became uppermost, and, 
although none of the usual signs of intoxication 
were visible, his z^/// was palpably insane." 

On this point Mr. Thomas C. Latto writes, 
"Whatever his lapses might have been, whatever 
he might say of himself (Burns was equally in- 
cautious, and equally garrulous in his aberra- 
tions) , the American poet was never a sot ; yet 
the charge has been made against him again and 
again." 

One of the. most respected clergymen in Massa- 
chusetts, who knew Poe well during the later 
years of the poet's life, most emphatically assured 
me, in a recent conversation, that Poe was not a 
drunkard. "Why (he said), I, the most inno- 
cent of divinity students at the time (1847), while 
walking with Poe, and feeling thirsty, pressed 
him to take a glass of wine with me. He de- 
clined, but finally compromised by taking a glass 
of ale with me. Almost instantly a great change 
came over him. Previously engaged in an in- 
describably eloquent conversation, he became as 
if paralyzed, and with compressed lips and 



80 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

fixed, glaring eyes, returned, without uttering a 
word, to the house which we were visiting. For 
hours, the strange spell hung over him. He 
seemed a changed being, as if stricken by some 
peculiar phase of insanity." 

We mention this as an act of simple justice to 
the poet, and to make apparent the falsity of the 
accounts of Poe's orgies and protracted indul- 
gences, as recorded by Griswold and others of 
the poet's villifiers. 

He never drank, never could have drunk, to 
excess. His fault then was not in his excessive 
indulgence in intoxicating drinks, but in his ex- 
ceptional susceptibility to the influence of liquor. 

There is no evidence that his weakness was in 
the insatiable craving for stimulants, common to 
drunkards. When he drank, at times, it was 
more frequently with the innocent intent, common 
to the large majority of mankind who are able to 
take a single glass with impunity, of exchanging 
a social pledge with a friend or companion. 
Nature had made him an unfortunate exception ; 
and will it not be generally admitted that any 
inherited or constitutional weakness is less amen- 
able to reason, than one which is merely th^ 
result of an artificial or acquired taste ? 



WITHDRAWAL FROM THE MESSENGER. Si 

Poe, it would seem, never resorted to liquor, 
even for the pardonable necessity of stimulating 
his literary inspirations. Such a sequence was 
impossible to his indulgence in what is to many 
a fortunate and desirable support. 

When engaged in writing, his sensitive organi- 
zation rendered any stimulant stronger than 
coffee fatal to his work, and even that pleasant 
and comparatively innocent beverage could be 
taken but sparingly by him. One of the causes 
of his isolation from society in the later years of 
his life, was his sensitiveness to his exceptional 
weakness, which placed him in an awkward 
position, from his native courtesy, when obliged, 
for self-protection, to decline even touching a 
single glass of wine. 

Referring to Poe's retirement from the "Mes- 
senger," which took place in 1837, Griswold 
writes, "Poe's irregularities frequently interrupted 
the kindness, and finally exhausted the patience, 
of his generous though methodical employer, 
and in the number of the " Messenger " for Jan- 
uary 1837, ne tnus took leave of its readers : — 

"Mr. Poe's attention being called in another 
direction, he will decline, with the present num- 



8 2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

ber, the editorial duties of the 'Messenger.' His 
Critical Notices for this month end with Professor 
Anthon's "Cicero" — what follows is from another 
hand. With the best wishes to the magazine, 
and to its few foes, as well as many friends, he is 
now desirous of bidding all parties a peaceful 
farewell." 

So far from dismissing the poet on account of 
drunkenness, Mr. White parted from him with 
reluctance ; and Griswold's contemptible mean- 
ness is again exhibited in the suppression, in his 
memoir, of Mr. White's letter to his subscribers, 
which appeared in the identical number of the 
"Messenger" which contained Poe's note of resig- 
nation. 

In this note, the proprietor paid a handsome 
compliment to the marked ability of his editor, 
acknowledged the success of the magazine under 
his direction, and added, "Mr. Poe, however, 
will continue to furnish its columns, from time to 
time, with the effusions of his vigorous and popu- 
lar pen." 

Griswold knew well that Poe resigned, owing 
to a flattering invitation which he received from 
Professors Anthon, Henry and Hawks to come 



GO WANS REMINISCENCES. 83 

to New York and join them in their new literary 
enterprise, "The New York Quarterly Review." 

In the letter of Dr. Hawks is sounded the 
key-note to which Poe responed in his after-work 
with an implacable devotion that struck terror to 
the hearts of all those who crossed the path of 
his merciless pen. Dr. Hawks writes, "I wish 
you to fall in with your broad-axe [the italics are 
the doctor's] amidst this miserable literary trash 
that surrounds us. I believe you have the will, 
and I know you will have the ability." 

In acceptance of Dr. Hawks' invitation, Poe 
removed to New York, and took up his residence 
at No. 113 Carmine Street in that city. 

A valuable contribution to the ana of Poe has 
been left by Mr. William Go wans, the Scotch 
bibliopolist, of New York, widely known and 
respected by the book-selling and book-reading 
community. Mr. Gowans, as it happened, re- 
sided in the same house with Poe at this time, 
and writing of the criticisms of Poe by his con- 
temporaries, as well as his domestic menage 
which he had a rare opportunity of observing, he 
says, — 

"The characters drawn of Poe by his various 



84 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

biographers and critics may, with safety, be pro- 
nounced an excess of exaggeration ; but this is 
not to be much wondered at, when it is taken 
into consideration that these men were rivals, 
either as poets or prose writers, and it is well 
known that such are generally as jealous of each 
other as are the ladies who are handsome, or 
those who desire to be considered possessed of 
the coveted quality. It is an old truism, and as 
true as it old, 'that in the midst of counsels there 
is safety.' I, therefore, will also show you my 
opinion of this gifted but unfortunate man. It 
may be estimated as worth little, but it has this 
merit : it comes from an eye and ear witness, 
and this, it must be remembered, is the very 
highest of legal evidence. 

"For eight months or more, one house con- 
tained us, one table fed us. During that time I 
saw much of him, and had an opportunity of 
conversing with him often, and I must say, I 
never saw him in the least affected by liquor,* 
nor knew him to descend to any kind of vice ; 
while he was one of the most courteous, gentle- 
manly and intelligent companions I have ever 
met during my journeyings and haltings through 






A NOTABLE REVIEW. %$ 

divers divisions of the globe. Besides, he had an 
extra inducement to be a good man, as well as a 
good husband, for he had a wife of matchless 
beauty and loveliness. 

"Her eyes could match those of any houri, and 
her face defy the genius of Canova to imitate ; 
a temper and disposition of surpassing sweetness. 
She seemed, withal, as much devoted to him and 
his every interest as a young mother is to her 
first-born." 

Among other critical articles written by Poe 
for the "Review" at this time, was a lengthy criti- 
cism on Stephens' "Incidents of Travels in Egypt, 
Arabia, Petrea and the Holy Land." The poet 
made an elaborate showing-up of the traveller's 
misconceptions of the biblical prophecies, as well 
as of some important mistranslations in Ezekiel 
and Isaiah. 

This article created a sensation, although it 
aroused the antagonism of such men as Griswold, 
and others of his ilk, some of whom yet live to 
void their venom upon the fair fame of the fear- 
less adversary, with whom in life they dared 
not to measure swords. 

During his residence in New York, at this 



86 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

time, Poe published, in book form, a story which 
he had begun several months before in the "Liter- 
ary Messenger," — " Arthur Gordon Pym." The 
work was issued by Harper & Brothers. The 
title-page reads as follows : — 

"The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, of 
Nantucket : comprising the Details of a Mutiny 
and Atrocious Butchery on board the American 
Brig ? Grampus,' on her way to the South Seas ; 
with an Account of the Recapture of the Vessel 
by the Survivors ; their Shipwreck, and subse- 
quent Horrible Sufferings from Famine ; their 
Deliverance by means of the British Schooner 
Jane Gray ; the brief Cruise of this latter Vessel 
in the Antarctic Ocean ; her Capture, and the 
Massacre of the Crew among a Group of Islands 
in the 84th parallel of southern latitude ; together 
with the incredible Adventures and Discoveries 
still further South, to which that distressing 
calamity gave rise." 

The work was not appreciated by the Ameri- 
can public, and less than a thousand copies were 
disposed of by the publishers. In England, 
however, it was highly successful, running 
through several editions within a short time. 



REPRINTED IN ENGLAND. g>J 

Griswold says, "that the publishers sent one 
hundred copies to England, and being mistaken, 
at first, for a narrative of real experiences, it was 
advertised to be reprinted ; but a discovery of its 
character, I believe, prevented such a result." 
It will be noted that the facts again tip the scale, 
against the balance of Griswold's fiction, in :his 
instance. 




CHAPTER V. 

VARIED EXPERIENCES IN PHILADELPHIA. 

1838-1844. 

Removal to Philadelphia — Engagement as Editor of the 
" Gentleman's Magazine" — " Ligeia" — Inspiration of Vis- 
ions — The Fall of the House of Usher — The Haunted 
Palace — Griswold's Charges of Plagiarism — The Manual of 
Chonchologj — Professor Wyatt's Refutation — First Col- 
lection of Tales — An Audacious Griswold Invention — C. 
Alexander's Letter — The "Gentleman's" Merged in "Gra- 
ham's" — BrighterDays — Pen Pictures of the Poet's Home — 
Virginia's Simplicity — A Pleasing Incident — The Murders 
in the Rue Morgue — First Introduction to the French Pub- 
lic — An Absurd Controversy — Baudelaire on Griswold — 
The Barnaby Rudge Analysis — The Mystery of Marie 
Roget — The Purloined Letter — Notable Papers on Au- 
tograpy and Cryptology — Withdrawal from "Graham's" — 
Griswold's Confession of Facts, and its Cause — George R. 
Graham's Statement — A Pertinent Anecdote — The Dream 
ofPoe's Life — The "Stylus" — First Appearance on the 
Rostrum, at Baltimore — First Lecture in Philadelphia. 



OE remained in New York but a year. 

The metropolis was not then the Mecca 

of magazinists and critics that it has 

come to be now, and Philadelphia seemed then 

to offer superior advantages to the poet-critic fox 

regular employment. 

(88) 




INSPIRATION OF VISIONS. 89 

Near the end of the year 1838, Poe removed 
to Philadelphia. There Wm. E. Burton, the 
famous comedian, had established the "Gentle- 
man's Magazine." The poet joined its corps of 
contributors, and in less than six months his 
brilliant experience with the "Messenger" was 
repeated, and the editor's chair was assigned to 
him. In this position he worked two hours a day, 
at a salary of ten dollars per week. This en- 
gagement gave him ample time for other literary 
duties, and he wrote for other journals, among 
which was the " Literary Examiner," of Pittsburgh, 
Pa. Some of his best prose tales were done at 
this time, when the yoke of privation sat but 
lightly upon his shoulders. 

"Ligeia," his favorite tale, written at this time, 
was inspired by a dream, although none but his 
charmed circle of intimates were permitted to 
know of the inner life which gave it birth. To 
these he often spoke, writes Mrs. Whitman, "of 
the imageries and incidents of his inner life, as 
more vivid and veritable than those of his outer 
experience." 

On a manuscript copy of one of his later 
poems, he refers, in a pencilled note, to the 
vision that inspired " Ligeia :" 



9 o 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



"All that I have here expressed was actually 
present to me. Remember the mental condition 
which gave rise to 'Ligeia,' — recall the pas- 
sage of which I spoke, and observe the coinci- 
dence." 

"I regard these visions," he says, "even as 
they arise, with an awe which, in some measure, 
moderates or tranquillizes the ecstasy. I so re- 
gard them through a conviction that this ecstasy, 
in itself, is of a character supernal to nature, — 
is a glimpse of the spirit's inner world." "He 
had," writes Mrs. Whitman, "that constitutional 
determination to reverie which, according to De 
Quincey, alone enables man to dream magnifi- 
cently, and which, as we have said, made his 
dreams realities, and his life a dream. 

"His mind was, indeed, a Haunted Palace, 
echoing to the footfalls of angels and demons." 

"No man," said Poe, "has recorded, no man 
has dared to record, the wonders of his inner 
life." 

"The Fall of the House of Usher" also ap- 
peared at this time. Even Griswold was moved 
to accord to these tales "the unquestionable stamp 
of genius." 



THE HAUNTED PALACE. yi 

He writes of them, "The analyses of the growth 
of madness in one, and the thrilling revelations of 
the existence of a first wife in the person of a 
second, in the other, are made with consummate 
skill ; and the strange and solemn and fascinating 
beauty which informs the style and invests the 
circumstances of both, drugs the mind, and 
makes us forget the improbabilities of their gen- 
eral design." 

"The Fall of the House of Usher" incorporated 
the poem of "The Haunted Palace," which Gris- 
wold ventured to mention as a specimen of Poe's 
so-called plagiarisms "scarcely paralleled for their 
audacity in all literary history." 

Poe has been accused of taking "The Haunted 
Palace" from Longfellow's " Beleaguered City." 
The "doctor" states that Longfellow's poem ap- 
peared a few weeks after "The Haunted Pal- 
ace ;" but that it had been written long before, 
and had been in Poe's possession for a time. 
The fact is, that Poe's poem had appeared long 
before Longfellow's, and in two different publica- 
tions. 

The same imperturbable authority which pre- 
sumes placidly to state that Poe was not remark- 



9 2 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



ably original in invention, owing to these sundry 
plagiarisms, classes his story of " The Pit and 
the Pendulum" under the same head. This, 
he says, was borrowed from a story, entitled 
w Vivenzio? or "Italian Vengeance," by the 
author of" The First and Last Dinner," in "Black- 
wood's Magazine." These stories have been 
carefully compared {not by Dr. Griswold) , and 
their only similarity is in the fact that both stories 
are founded upon the idea of a collapsing room, 
for which authenticated historical record, and 
not the creative power of the writers, is to be 
credited. In plot or construction, there is not the 
slightest resemblance between these stories. 

The most flagrant plagiarism alleged against 
Poe by Dr. Griswold was that of the publishing 
of the "Manual of Conchology," which, it is 
charged, was a copy, nearly verbatim, of "The 
Text-book of Conchology," by Captain Thomas 
Brown, printed in Glasgow in 1833. He writes, 
" Mr. Poe actually took out a copyright for the 
American edition of Captain Brown's work, and, 
omitting all mention of the English original, 
pretended, in the preface, to have been under 
great obligations to several scientific gentlemen 
of this city." 



PROFESSOR WTATT'S REFUTATION. 93 

Although this story could have, at the time of 
the original publication of Griswold's memoir, 
been easily disproved, no one of Poe's friends 
took the trouble to investigate this charge ; and 
his rivals and enemies were only well pleased 
to accept the statement of Griswold as truthful. 
Most of them had been pretty roughly handled — 
pilloried by the poet's merciless pen ; and al- 
though they may have deserved his strictures, 
which, however severe, never stooped to deliber- 
ate falsification, they were, nevertheless, goaded 
to the bitterest enmity by his scathing expose 
of their shortcomings. 

Therefore, it is to be presumed, this story of 
the wholesale appropriation of the English au- 
thor's book was as a toothsome morsel in their 
cup of bitterness. 

But some ten years after this falsehood had 
gone on record, it was most authoritatively dis- 
proved in the columns of the "Home Journal," 
New York, by Professor Wyatt, a Scotch scientist, 
who, it is understood, was not in the country at 
the time the charge against Poe was orignally 
published. 

This gentleman had, it seems, become ac- 



94 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



quainted with Poe while the poet was connected 
with the "Gentleman's Magazine," at the period 
of which we are now writing, and had engaged 
him to assist in the compilation of several works 
on natural history. 

A comparison of Brown's "Text-book" with 
Poe and Wyatt's "Manual" evidences that the} r 
bear some resemblance, both being founded on 
the system of Lamarck ; but it would be as absurd 
to charge that the American book is plagiarized 
from the English, as it would be to term "Hook- 
er's School Physiology" a plagiarism from Olm- 
sted's, because both treat of certain subjects in 
common. 

As musical composers frequently vie with each 
other in setting their scores to the same subject, 
so authors may be permitted to evolve from a 
given subject, even if previously appropriated, 
the new creations moulded by the emanations of 
their own peculiar creative powers ; and, by 
matter-of-fact minds, incapable of sensing deli- 
cate distinctions, poets from Shakspeare down to 
Aldrich have been, and will continue to be, ad- 
judged guilty of arrant plagiarisms. 

In the autumn of 1839, -P° e published his first 



AN AUDACIOUS INVENTION. 



95 



collection of tales in two volumes under the 
title, "Tales of the Arabesque and Grotesque." 
This issue included "Ligeia," and "The Fall of 
the House of Usher," with others of his notable 
imaginative compositions. These stones were, 
at the time, caviare to the general reading public 
to which they were addressed ; but they won 
favor with the very limited circle of literary peo- 
ple, w r hose favor was worth the while, although 
the poet probably reaped no. significant pecuniary 
reward from their publication. 

Dr. Griswold's account of Poe's alleged seces- 
sion from the "Gentleman's Magazine," which he 
states occurred in 1840, wilfully misrepresents the 
facts, after the manner of this vindictive villiner. 

After mentioning a personal correspondence 
between Burton and Poe, in which the views of 
the latter, whatever they may have been, are 
carefully suppressed, Dr. Griswold romances 
as follows : " He [Burton] was. absent nearly 
a fortnight, and on returning he found that his 
printers had not received a line of copy, but that 
Poe had prepared the prospectus of a new 
monthly, and obtained transcripts of his subscrip- 
tion and account books, to be used in a scheme 



g6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

for supplanting him. He encountered his asso- 
ciate late in the evening, at one of his accustomed 
haunts, and said, ? Mr. Poe, I am astonished. 
Give me my manuscripts, so that I can attend to 
the duties which you have so shamefully neg- 
lected, and when you are sober we will settle.' 
Poe interrupted him with, 'Who are you that 
presume to address me in this manner? Burton, 
I am the editor of the "Penn Magazine," and 
you are — hiccup — a fool! ' Of course, this 
ended his relations with the ' Gentleman's.' " 
That this alleged conversation, so plausibly nar- 
rated as to pass current, nem. con., were it not 
for the existence of more reliable documentary 
evidence, is an audacious invention, will be ap- 
parent from the written testimony given of a 
gentleman connected with the " Gentleman's 
Magazine" at this time as publisher, Charles W. 
Alexander, Esq., the founder of the "Philadel- 
phia Saturday Evening Post." 

In a letter to T. W. Clarke, Esq., proprietor 
of the "Museum," published at that time in Phil- 
adelphia, Mr. Alexander writes as follows : — 

Philadelphia, Oct. 20th, 1850. 
My dear Sir, — I very cheerfully reply to your request 
made in reference to our friend Edgar Allan Poe. 



C. ALEXANDER'S LETTER. 



97 



I well remember his connection with the " Gentleman's 
Magazine," of which Mr. Burton was editor, and myself the 
publisher, at the period referred to in connection with Mr. 
Poe. 

The absence of the principal editor on professional duties 
left the matter frequently in the hands of Mr. Poe, whose un- 
fortunate failing may have occasioned some disappointment 
in the preparation of a particular article expected from hints 
but never interfering with the regular publication of the 
" Gentleman's Magazine," as its monthly issue was never in- 
terrupted upon any occasion, either from Mr. Poe's defi- 
ciency, or from any other cause, during my publication of it, 
embracing the whole time of Mr. Poe's connection with it. 
That Mr. Poe had faults seriously detrimental to his own in- 
terests, none, of course, will deny. They were, unfortu- 
nately, too well known in the literary circles of Philadelphia, 
were there any disposition to conceal them. But he alone 
was the sufferer, and not those who received the benefit of his 
pre-eminent talents, however irregular his habits or uncer- 
tain his contributions may occasionally have been. 

I had long and familiar intercourse with him, and very 

cheerfully embrace the opportunity which you now offer of 

bearing testimony to the uniform gentleness of disposition 

and kindness of heart which distinguished Mr. Poe in all 

my intercourse with him. With all his faults, he was a 

gentleman ; which is more than can be said of some who have 

Undertaken the ungracious task of blacking the reputation 

which Mr. Poe, of all others, esteemed " the precious jewel of 

his soul." 

Yours truly, 

C. Alexander. 
To Mr. T. C. Clarke. 



98 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

According to Mr. Clarke, the " Perm Magazine " 
had not been projected at that time, nor indeed 
mentioned as in prospect until several years 
later. 

There is no reputable evidence that Poe ever 
quitted his position on the staff of the " Gentle- 
man's " at all ; certain it is, that when, in the 
latter part of the year 1840, Mr. George R. 
Graham, proprietor of " The Casket," purchased 
the " Gentleman's Magazine," and merged the 
two into one under the title of " Graham's Maga- 
zine," Poe was retained as editor. With less re- 
straint upon his pen, and a more liberal business 
management, the new magazine speedily gained 
in popularity, its subscription list, according to 
some accounts, being increased to tenfold of that 
of its predecessors, which it combined. 

These were, perhaps, the brightest days of the 
poet's literary career. Mr. Graham was a con- 
genial companion, sympathetic with Poe's tastes 
and aspirations, and, in no small degree, was 
able to minister to the material comforts of his 
gifted co-laborer. Poe was then in such demand 
that, although poorly paid, his industry secured 
him a good living ; and but for the illness of his 



THE POET'S HOME. . 99 

child-wife, upon whom the wasting ravages of her 
malady had begun to do their work, he would 
have been happy and comfortable. Griswold has 
the decency to speak of Poe's home, which he 
visited at this time, in terms that seem unaccount- 
able coming from this source. He does not 
neglect a fling at the poet's acknowledged mis- 
fortune, but for a Griswoldism the allusion de- 
serves to be admitted here by way of contrast : 

"It was while he resided in Philadelphia that 
I became acquainted with him. 

"His manner, except during his fits of intoxica- 
tion, was very quiet and gentlemanly. He was 
usually dressed with simplicity and elegance, 
and when once he sent for me to visit him, during 
a period of illness caused by protracted and anx- 
ious watching at the side of his sick wife, I was 
impressed by the singular neatness and the air of 
refinement in his home. 

"It was in a small house in one of the pleas- 
ant and silent neighborhoods far from the centre 
of the town, and though slightly and cheaply 
furnished, everything in it was so tasteful and so 
fitly disposed that it seemed altogether suitable 
for a man of genius." 



loo LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

The residence described was a small brick 
tenement in North Seventh street, in that part 
of the city then known as Spring Garden. 

The house was on the rear portion of the lot, 
leaving a large vacant space in front, affording 
Poe and his gentle invalid wife opportunity for 
indulging their -penchant for plants and flowers. 

"Mr. T. C. Clarke, nearly associated with Poe 
at this time, writes, "Their little garden in 
summer, and the house in winter, were over- 
flowing with luxuriant grape and other vines, 
and liberally ornamented with choice flowers of 
the poet's selection. Poe was a pattern of social 
and domestic worth. It was our happiness to 
participate with them in the occasional enjoyment 
of the beauty of the flowers, and to watch the 
enthusiasm with which the fondly attached pair 
exhibited their floral taste. Here, too, we were 
wont to participate in the hospitality which al- 
ways rendered Poe's home the home of his friends. 
We call to mind some incidents in the pleas- 
antly remembered intercourse that existed be- 
tween the ladies of our families, especially in 
the hours of sickness, which rendered so much 
of Virginia's life a source of painful anxiety to 



THE POET'S HOME. ioi 

all who had the pleasure of knowing her, and of 
witnessing the gradual wasting away of her 
fragile frame. 

"But she was an exquisite picture of patient 
loveliness, always wearing upon her beautiful 
countenance the smile of resignation, and the 
warm, even cheerful, look with which she ever 
greeted her friends. 

"How devotedly her husband loved the gentle 
being, whose life was bound up in his own, is 
touchingly illustrated in the Griswold description 
of his visit which I have italicized. c He sent 
for me to visit him during a -period of illness 
caused by protracted and anxious watching at 
the side of his sick wife.'' 

"This, coming from the malignant Griswold, is 
an eloquent tribute to the kindly and tender 
spirit of Poe, whose devotion no adversity, not 
even the fiend that haunted him in the fatal cup, 
could warp or lessen, and this attachment, in- 
tense as it was on the part of the poet, was 
equally strong and enduring in the soul of his 
'Annabel Lee,' his gentle mate, whose affection 
that poem so touchingly and sadly commemo- 
rates. 



102 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

'And this maiden, she loved with no other thought 
Than to love and be loved by me.' 

" f She was a child,' sings the poem ; and indeed 
Poe himself was little else in the every-day per- 
plexities and responsibilities of life . Of Virginia's 
playful, child-like buoyancy of spirit, I may men- 
tion an incident which, though trifling in itself, 
shows the keen zest with which she enjoyed little 
trifles which others might have regarded as annoy- 
ing or impertinent. 

"Our little daughter, passing the day with her 
favorite friend, enlivened the hours with her 
childish songs. 

" There was one which she hinted knowledge 
of, but positively refused to sing, and it was not 
until after repeated solicitations from Virginia 
that the child ventured upon 

* I never would be married and be called Mistress Poe, Goody 
Poe, &c. 

"'Mistress Poe' received the song with peal 
upon peal of laughter, and insisted, in her exu- 
berance of spirits, on having the homely melody 
repeated. 

"Upon parting, Virginia gave the child a keep- 
sake, which the recipient, no longer a child, 



THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. 



103 



now cherishes in memory of the fair and gentle 
donor. 

"On leaving Philadelphia for New York, 
when breaking up their simple, fairy-like home, 
we were favored with some of their pet flowers, 
which, preserved and framed, remain in our 
household to this day as interesting relics of those 
happy days with Edgar and Virginia." 

During his engagement on "Graham's," which 
lasted about fifteen months, Poe wrote most of 
his best stories and many critiques, reviews and 
essays, fully establishing his reputation as a 
writer, spite of the fact that most of his writing 
was far in advance of the age in which he lived, 
and above the comprehension of the mass of the 
literary public of that time. 

In "Graham's" for April, 1841, appeared "The 
Murders in the Rue Morgue," the first of those 
wonderful analytic tales in the conception and 
evolving of which Poe has never been equalled, 
although persistently imitated, especially by mod- 
ern French romancers. This story, indeed, 
served to introduce the poet to the French public, 
in a manner that amply justified the author in his 
frequent charges of plagiarism against his con- 
temporaries. 



104 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

The anecdote is not new, but it is good enough 
to bear a repetition in this place. 

The author's grotesque conception, as is well 
known to those who have read the tale, fixes the 
murder upon a fugitive orang-outang, who had 
been detected by his master in the act of shaving 
himself, and escaped with the razor in hand. 

One of the Parisian journals, K La Commerce" 
"cribs" and translates the story from "Graham's" 
without credit, and it, in turn, is served up as a 
novelty by a writer in "La £>iwtidienne? under 
the appropriate title, " U Orang-Otang;" .a third 
party incautiously charges " La £>uotidienne" of 
a plagiarism from " La Commerce" and in the 
course of the examination it comes out, that to 
the American writer only belongs the honor of 
the composition of the story. "L'Entr* Arte? 
another Parisian journal, in its issue of the 20th 
of October, 1846, gave an exceedingly amusing 
account of the absurd contretemps between its 
contemporaries, complimenting Poe, of whom it 
speaks as " un gaillard bien Jin et bien sj>iri- 
tuel" 

This controversy naturally resulted in bring- 
ing Poe's name prominently before the French 



BAUDELAIRE ON GRISWOLD. 105 

• 

reading world, and commendatory critiques were 
at this time published in the "Revue des Deux 
Mondes" and pther leading journals, while Ma- 
dame Isabelle Meunier translated others of his 
stories for the periodicals. It was reserved for 
Charles Baudelaire, however, to first discover 
the poet's genius, and to immortalize it in France 
by his exquisitely sympathetic and faithful trans- 
lations. It was Baudelaire, too, who among 
foreign writers first denounced the mendacities 
of Griswold, and held him up to the gaze of the 
French admirers of Poe in his true colors. 
Speaking of the biographers of Poe, Baudelaire 
writes, w Some, uniting the dullest unintelligence 
of his genius to the ferocity of the hypocritical 
trading class, have insulted him to the upper- 
most, after his untimely end, rudely hectoring his 
poor speechless corpse, particularly Mr. Rufus 
W. Griswold, the -pedagogue vampire, who has 
defamed his friend at full length, in an enormous 
article, wearisome and crammed with hatred, 
which was prefixed to the posthumous editions 
of Poe's works. Are there then no regulations 
in America to keep the curs out of the ceme- 
teries ? " 



lo6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

In May, 1841, appeared in the "Saturday 
Evening Post," of Philadelphia, Poe's celebrated 
-prophetic analysis of Dickens' "Barnaby Rudge." 
From the initial chapters of the story, Poe de- 
duced the entire plot and predicted the actual 
denouement. 

Dickens, in his first visit to America, took 
occasion admiringly to confirm the entire accu- 
racy of the poet's analysis. 

Early in 1842 appeared the now famous "De- 
scent into the Maelstrom." In November of the 
same year " The Mystery of Marie Roget " was 
published in "Graham's." 

The story was another triumph for Poe's ana- 
lytic power. 

This story was founded upon the incident of 
the murder of a young girl, which took place 
while Poe was residing in New York. Her 
death, the poet tells us, occasioned a long-con- 
tinued excitement, and the mystery attending it 
had remained unsolved at the period when the 
story was written and published. 

In his note, appended to the edition of his tales 
published during his lifetime, Poe writes, "'The 
Mystery of Marie Roget ' was composed at a 



THE PURLOINED LETTER. 



107 



distance from the scene of the atrocity, and with 
no other means of investigation than the news- 
papers afforded. 

"Thus, much escaped the writer, of which he 
could have availed "himself had he been upon the 
spot and visited the localities. It may not be 
improper to record, nevertheless, that the con- 
fession of two persons (one of them the Madame 
Delue of the narrative) , made at different peri- 
ods, long subsequent to the publication, confirmed 
in full, not only the general conclusion, but abso- 
lutely all the chief hypothetical details by which 
that conclusion was attained." 

Although less satisfactory, as a story, from the 
fact that the following-out of the clue was for pru- 
dential reasons omitted, the " Mystery of Marie 
Roget," as a representative study of the poet's 
method, a method flawless in its way, and alto- 
gether sui generis, it affords a most satisfactory 
example. 

"The Purloined Letter," a sequence to "Marie 
Roget," and constructed in the same vein, was 
published shortly afterwards, and "The Prema- 
ture Burial" appeared at this time. 

It was during Poe's connection with "Gra- 



Io8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

ham's," too, that he wrote the papers on "Autog- 
raphy," with their prophetic analyses, after the 
method of Lavater, as well as his papers on 
"Cryptology," in which he claimed that no cryp- 
tograph could be constructed by human inge- 
nuity which human ingenuity could not un- 
ravel. 

Griswold sneers anent this theory, " a not very 
dangerous proposition, since it implied no capa- 
city in himself to discover every riddle of this kind 
that should be invented." 

Griswold admits, however, that " he succeeded 
with several difficult cryptographs that were sent 
to him." 

He does not add that Poe never failed to solve 
any cryptograph of the enormous number sent to 
him ; but such is the fact, — a fact which does not 
excuse the deplorable waste of time and talents 
upon such a fancy. 

But Poe's critical animus frequently carried 
him beyond the boundaries of reason. He was, 
unquestionably, lacking in the balance and 
concentration that would have repressed such 
profitless deflections, the effect of which is exhib- 
ited in the uneven quality of his verse, of which 
Oliver Wendell Holmes says, that in the works 



GRISWOLD'S CONFESSION OF FACTS. 109 

of no other poet is there exhibited such a differ- 
ence in quality, as exists between the best and 
the worst of Poe's poems. 

To Poe belongs the honor of discovering and 
first introducing to the American public the 
genius of Elizabeth Barrett Browning ; and it 
was at this time, while conducting "Graham's," 
that many of this author's verses were contrib- 
uted to its pages. 

Shortly after" the publication of "The Pur- 
loined Letter," in 1842, Poe withdrew from 
" Graham's " under circumstances which indicate 
that Gris wold's statement that the most friendly 
relations existed between him and Poe is false, 
and that the letters published by Griswold as 
written to him by Poe were fabrications. 

Speaking of the severing of Poe's connection 
with "Graham's Magazine, " Dr. Griswold writes, 
" The infirmities which induced his separation 
from Mr. White and Mr. Burton at length com- 
pelled Mr. Graham to find another editor ; " and 
also in the same connection, "It is known that 
the personal ill-will on both sides was such that 
for some four or five years not a line by Poe was 
-purchased for ' Graham's Magazine.'" The 
italics are Dr. Griswold's. He evidently believes 



UO LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

with Chrysos, the art-patron in W. S. Gilbert's 
play of " Pygmalion and Galatea, " that when a 
person tells a lie he " should tell it well. " 

Mr. Graham, from whom the' magazine was 
named, is now living, and when we last saw 
him, December, 1873, he was in excellent health. 
We were then, of course, intent upon securing 
data in regard to the life of Poe ; and in a con- 
versation with Mr. Graham, some peculiarly sig- 
nificant facts touching Griswold's veracity in par- 
ticular were elicited. 

Mr. Graham • states that Poe never quarrelled 
with him ; never was discharged from " Graham's 
Magazine ; " and that during the " four or five 
years " italicized by Dr. Griswold as indicating 
the personal ill-will between Mr. Poe and Mr. 
Graham, over fifty articles by Poe were accepted 
by Mr. Graham. 

The facts of Mr. Poe's secession from " Gra- 
ham's " were as follows : — 

Mr. Poe was, from illness or other causes, ab- 
sent for a short time from his post on the maga- 
zine. Mr. Graham had, meanwhile, made a 
temporary arrangement with Dr. Griswold to act 
as Poe's substitute until his return. Poe came 



A PER TINE NT ANECDOTE. m 

back unexpectedly, and, seeing Griswold in his 
chair, turned on his heel without a word, and left 
the office, nor could he be persuaded to enter it 
again, although, as stated, he sent frequent con- 
tributions thereafter to the pages of the maga- 
zine. 

The following pertinent anecdote, related to us 
by Mr. Graham, well illustrates the character of 
Poe's biographer. Dr. Griswold's associate in 
his editorial duties on " Graham's " was Mr. 
Charles J. Peterson, a gentleman long and favor- 
ably known in connection with prominent Amer- 
ican magazines. Jealous of his abilities, and un- 
able to visit his vindictiveness upon him in pro- 
pria -persona, Dr. Griswold conceived the noble 
design of stabbing him in the back, writing un- 
der a no m de plume in another journal, the " New 
York Review. " In the columns of the " Review " 
there appeared a most scurrilous attack upon Mr. 
Peterson, at the very time in the daily interchange 
of friendly courtesies with his treacherous asso- 
ciate. Unluckily for Dr. Griswold, Mr. Graham 
saw this article, and, immediately inferring, from 
its tone, that Griswold was the undoubted author, 
went to him with the article in his hand, saying, 



112 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

"Dr. Griswold, I am very sorry to say I have de- 
tected you in what I call a piece of rascality." 
Griswold turned all colors upon seeing the article, 
but stoutly denied the imputation, saying, "I'll 
go before an alderman and swear that I never 
wrote it." It was fortunate that he was not com- 
pelled to add perjury to his meanness, for Mr. 
Graham said no more about the matter at that 
time, waiting his opportunity for authoritative 
confirmation of the truth of his surmises. He 
soon found his conjectures confirmed to the letter. 
Being well acquainted with the editor of the 
K Review, " he took occasion to call upon him 
shortly afterwards when in New York. Asking 
as a special favor to see the manuscript of the ar- 
ticle in question, it was handed to him. The 
writing was in Griswold's hand. 

Returning to Philadelphia, Mr. Graham called 
Griswold to him, told him the facts, paid him a 
month's salary in advance, and dismissed him 
from his post, on the spot. 

So it becomes evident that the memory of Poe's 
biographer, confused upon the point of his dis- 
charge from "Graham's," has saddled Poe with 



THE STYLUS. 113 

the humiliation and disgrace that alone belonged 
to him. 

Freed from his responsibilities upon "Gra- 
ham's," Poe seems to have bent his energies upon 
realizing the dream of his life, the establishment 
of an independent monthly magazine. His plans 
found favor with influential parties, and a circular 
was issued and partially distributed, inviting the 
attention of the public to the new enterprise, the 
title of which was to be the " Penn Magazine ;" 
but Poe, spite of his extraordinary analytical 
powers, was an inefficient business man, and the 
new venture proved but "a flash in the pan," and 
the "Penn Magazine" never came to be. The 
idea, however, was still rife in the poet's mind, 
and, under different auspices, he again essayed 
its realization. 

" To have a magazine of his own," writes Han- 
nay, "which he could manage as he pleased, 
was always the great ambition of his life. It was 
the chimera which he nursed, the castle in the 
air which he longed for, the rainbow of his cloudy 
hopes." 

Poe invented a new title, selected a motto and 
designed a heading, — a copy of which, engraved 



ri4 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

from the original drawing by the poet, is given 
on the next page. 

The first public announcement of this new ven- 
ture, which was to be called "The Stylus," was 
made in the columns of the "Museum" of Mr. 
Clarke, Poe's co-partner in the enterprise. We 
make the following extract, preluding the pros- 
pectus of the magazine, which, as embodying 
the poet's original theories of his ideal magazine, 
is of sufficient interest to warrant the reproduc- 
tion here in its entirety : — 

"It has often been a subject for wonder that 
with the pre-eminent success which has attended 
his editorial efforts, Mr. Poe has never.established 
a magazine, in which he should have more than a 
collateral interest ; and we are now happy to learn 
that such is, at length, his intention. By refer- 
ence to another page of our paper, it will be seen 
that he has issued the Prospectus of a Monthly, 
to be entitled "The Stylus," for which, it is 
needless to say, we predict the most unequivocal 
success. In so saying, we but endorse the opin- 
ion of every literary man in the country, and 
fully agree with Fitz Greene Halleck, that, how- 
ever eminent may be the contributors engaged, 



THE STTLUS. 



"5 



it is, after all, on his own fine taste, sound judg- 
ment and great general ability for the task, that 
the public will place the firmest reliance." 




PROSPECTUS OF THE STYLUS. 

To be Edited by Edgar A. Poe. 

unbending that all men 

Of thy firm Truth may say — " Lo ! this is writ 
With the antique iron pen." 

— Launcelot Canning. 

To the Public. — The Prospectus of a Monthly Journal, to 
have been called "The Penn Magazine," has already been 
partially circulated. Circumstances in which the public have 
no interest, induced a suspension of the project, which is now, 
under the best auspices, resumed, with no other modification 
than that of the title. "The Penn Magazine," it has been 
thought, was a name somewhat too local in its suggestions, 
and "The Stylus" has been finally adopted. 

It has become obvious, indeed, to even the most unthinking, 



Ii6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

that the period has at length arrived when a journal of the 
character here proposed, is demanded and will be sustained. 
The late movements on the great question of International 
Copyright are but an index of the universal disgust excited 
by what is quaintly termed the cheap literature of the day, — 
as if that which is utterly worthless in itself can be cheap at 
any price under the sun. 

"The Stylus" will include about one hundred royal-octavo 
pages, in single column, per month, forming two thick vol- 
umes per year. In its mechanical appearance — in its typogra- 
phy, paper and binding — it will far surpass all American 
journals of its kind. Engravings, when used, will be in the 
highest style of art, but are promised only in obvious illus- 
tration of the text, and in strict keeping with the Magazine 
character. Upon application to the proprietors, by any agent 
of repute who may desire the work, or by any other individ- 
ual who may feel interested, a specimen sheet will be forward- 
ed. As, for many reasons, it is inexpedient to commence a 
journal of this kind at any other period than the beginning or 
middle of the year, the first number of "The Stylus" will not 
be regularly issued until the first of July, 1843. 

The necessity for any very rigid definition of the literary 
character or aims of " The Stylus" is, in some measure, ob- 
viated by the general knowledge, on the part of the public, 
of the editor's connection, formerly, with the two most suc- 
cessful periodicals in the country — "The Southern Literary 
Messenger" and "Graham's Magazine." Having no propri- 
etary right, however, in either of these journals, his objects, 
too, being in many respects at variance with those of their 
very worthy owners, he found it not only impossible to effect 
anything, on the score of taste, for the mechanical appearance 



THE STYLUS. 



117 



of the works, but exceedingly difficult, also, to stamp upon 
their internal character that individuality which he. believes 
essential to the full success of all similar publications. In 
regard to their extensive and permanent influence, it appears 
to him that continuity, definitiveness, and a marked certainty 
of purpose are requisites of vital importance ; and he cannot 
help thinking that these requisites are attainable only where 
a single mind has at least the general direction of the enter- 
prise. Experience, in a word, has distinctly shown him — 
what, indeed, might have been demonstrated a priori — that 
in founding a Magazine wherein his interest should be not 
merely editorial, lies his sole chance of carrying out to com- 
pletion whatever peculiar intentions he may have entertained. 
In many important points, then, the new journal will differ 
widely from either of those named. It will endeavor to be, at 
the same time, more varied and more unique, — more vigorous, 
more pungent, more original, more individual, and more in- 
dependent. It 'will discuss not only the Belles-Lettres, but, 
very thoroughly the Fine Arts, with the Drama ; and, more 
in brief, will give each month a Retrospect of our Political 
History. It will enlist the loftiest talent, but employ it not 
always in the loftiest — at least, not always in the most pom- 
pous or Puritanical — way. It will aim at affording a fair and 
not dishonorable field for the true intellect of the land, with- 
out reference to the mere prestige of celebrated names. It 
will support the general interests of the Republic of Letters, 
ani' insist upon regarding the world at large as the sole proper 
audience for the author. It will resist the dictation of For- 
eign Reviews. It will eschew the stilted dulness of our own 
Quarterlies, and while it may, if necessary, be no less learned, 
will deem it wiser to be less anonymous, and difficult to be 
more dishonest, than they. 



ii8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

An important feature of the work, and one which will be 
introduced in the opening number, will- be a series of Criti- 
cal and Biographical Sketches of American Writers. These 
Sketches will be accompanied with full-length and character- 
istic portraits ; will include every person of literary note in 
America ; and will investigate carefully, and with rigorous im- 
partiality, the individual claims of each. 

It shall, in fact, be the chief purpose of "The Stylus" to 
become known as a journal wherein may be found, at all 
times, upon all subjects within its legitimate reach, a sincere 
and fearless opinion. It shall be a leading object to assert 
in precept, and to maintain in practice, the rights, while in 
effect it demonstrates the advantages, of an absolutely inde- 
pendent criticism; — a criticism self-sustained; guiding itself 
only by the purest rules of Art; analyzing and urging these 
rules as it applies them ; holding itself aloof from all per- 
sonal bias ; and acknowledging no fear save that of outraging 
the Right. CLARKE & POE. 

In furtherance of the new enterprise, Poe un- 
fortunately visited Washington. Furnished with 
the necessary funds, he supposed that his per- 
sonal intimacy with the sons of the President, if 
not his own talents, would enable him to secure 
the names of the members of the Cabinet and 
those of other prominent personages in the Capi- 
tal, with which to place the new literary project 
more prominently before the public. But sad 
disappointment awaited his cherished hopes. 



Fac-Simile of C 



£4. 



I 



, — - & 



Suffice* tC At^ui <£y e^C^. 

/frl <T>t*>l^t. J Strifes -^ 



J% 



Fac-Simile of Contract made with F. O. C. Darley. 



c/tM^tyg/j csf.% fivu. Z&cmJ&wttt^ <ftjji4> dW<4,^ <x*^C *&*% 'Pfacc 
***• £. &&<*&*> ^*< £*&*. csf.<5>c*. **t/4*^fa,^ S/Ctm^f ': /*r>* ' ; 

/i, ww e-yic /<#*•#■**- -££_, ^tn, /£me gSpita^ei. eJ&Jd&r etAc-si*. Adt^ 

Mr UtrVfiC '- esUCHtC^SW^A; 6*?t Ate. f*0-?^, /? 4££ if ' ^* <Urv*d, ST. %£ 

$164*. 6*4. ec^r^-tin^. ey* " f^-/2&oJ J ~\ a^</ t^iU^Ttz^dZsG 6^, ^-f^u^c> 
t4l*i£,/n £eceA <^/pi &> £*AsT4^sAa cC>j 6^U44 : £/z^-/Zi. <z*t,i *C i/ 0& 

^SM* A?ee£ t? M^W "^9%e^*^u^i^ ' . 



/fa 2*rrt ^<*g? y ' c/*l£* /f-*£^. x st^fC- >VZ"<4 Sfc S;^<?C >^Lc & 
■^l. ^^.e^fu^L^d . /ZltJ Ztu^Zi - rt^ri- #/x^f *? i/' 



rac*t4*<£&Gst4 



trusu S'scvt.ZZ&ves) j /tint ^4 - ^r^- **& ? <~ ~~: '"^Z-S,/: ,>) 







THE STYLUS. 



119 



What harshness, or unsympathetic reception 
attended his sanguine expectations was never 
definitely known, even by his co-laborer, Mr. 
Clarke. That he did not receive the welcome at 
the hands of President Tyler that he had rea- 
sonably anticipated, is certain, and there is little 
reason to doubt that his failure to secure the in- 
fluential support so essential to his material suc- 
cess was mainly due to the jealous, unappreciative 
atmosphere of the politicians among whom he 
vainly worked. The spheres of literature and 
politics were at that era more antagonistic even 
than in the present time ; and his delicate, sensi- 
tive nature was called upon to receive rebuffs 
which only the horny hide of the hack politician 
is fitted to bear with equanimity. 

In his endeavor to stem the tide of conflicting 
circumstances, the poet, forced in Rome to be a 
Roman, committed his characteristically fatal 
mistake in trusting to a strength which he did not 
possess, with the inevitable result, as the follow- 
ing letters to Mr. Clarke only too clearly evidence. 

The first is from the poet himself, and its con- 
flicting statements and unsteady penmanship (a 
fac-simile of which we give) , in which the writ- 



120 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

er's characteristically clean-cut chirography is 
totally unrecognizable, plainly tell the story of 
the unfortunate condition of the author. 

Washington, March n, 1843. 

My Dear Sir, — I write merely to inform you of my well- 
doing, for, so far, I have done nothing. 

My friend Thomas, upon whom I depended, is sick. I sup- 
pose he will be well in a few days. In the mean time I shall 
have to do the best I can. 

I have not seen the President yet. 

My expenses were more than I thought they wo\ild be, al- 
though I have economized in every respect, and this delay 
(Thomas being sick) puts me out sadly. However, all is 
going right. I have got the subscriptions of all the depart- 
ments, President, &c. I believe that I am making a sensation 
which will tend to the benefit of the magazine. 

Day after to-morrow I am to lecture. Rob. Tyler is to give 

me an article, also Upsher. Send me $10 by mail as soon as 

you get this. I am grieved to ask you for money in this way, 

but you will find your account in it twice over. 

Very truly yours, 

Edgar A. Poe. 
Thos. C. Clarke, Esq. 

This was followed, on the succeeding day, by 
a letter from Mr. J. E. Dow, at that time editor 
of the " Daily Madisonian," a Tyler organ : — 

Washington, March 12, 1843. 
Dear Sir, — I deem it to be my bounden duty to write you 
this hurried letter in relation to our mutual friend E.A.P. 



r 



Fac-Simile of Letter to T. C. Clarke. 







THE STTLUS. 121 

• He arrived here a few days since. On the first evening he 
seemed somewhat excited, having been over-persuaded to take 
some Port wine. 

On the second day he kept pretty steady, but since then he 
has been, at intervals, quite unreliable. 

He exposes himself here to those who may injure him very 
much with the President, and thus prevents us from doing for 
him what we wish to do and what we can do if he is himself 
again in Philadelphia. He does not understand the ways of 
politicians, nor the manner of dealing with them to advan- 
tage. How should he ? 

Mr. Thomas is not well and cannot go home with Mr. P. 
My business and the health of my family will present me 
from so doing. 

Under all the circumstances of the case, I think it advisable 
for you to come on and see him safely back to his home. 
Mrs. Poe is in a bad state of health, and I charge you, as you 
have a soul to be saved, to say not one word to her about 
him until he arrives with you. I shall expect you or an an- 
swer to this letter by return of mail. 

Should you not come, we will see him on board the cars 
bound to Phila., but we fear he might be detained in Balti- 
more and not be out of harm's way. 

I do this under a solemn responsibility. Mr. Poe has the 
highest order of intellect, and I cannot bear that he should be 
the sport of senseless creatures who, like Oysters, keep sober, 
and gape and swallow everything. 

I think your good judgment will tell you what course you 
ought to pursue in this matter, and I cannot think it will be 
necessary to let him know that I have written you this letter; - 



122 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

but I cannot suffer him to injure himself here without giving 
you this warning. 

Yours respectfully, 

J. E. Dow. 

To Thomas C. Clarke, Esq., 

Philadelphia, Pa. 

The enterprise languished from this time, and, 
like its predecessor in the same path, died ere it 
was yet born. But whatever may have been the 
disappointment and chagrin of Poe and his co- 
laborer Clarke, there was no "quarrel," as stated 
by Griswold, and reiterated by the poet's London 
biographer. 

Mr. Clarke continued in intimate and friendly 
relations with the poet. 

Apropos of the alleged quarrel, Mr. Clarke 
writes in a manuscript letter before us, "With 
Poe I had no quarrel, and I make this statement 
here because the London editor of his poems, 
under the influence of Griswold's text, says, 
'As a matter of course, he quarrelled and then 
went to New York.' All this is unjust and un- 
generous, and it is painful to see that really mag- 
nificent edition of the poems thus disfigured. 

"Poor Poe, however harsh he may have been in 
his vocation of critic, for he was made wretched 



T. C. CLARKE'S TESTIMONT. 



123 



by any imperfection of art, personally quarrelled 
with no one, but was a genial, generous friend, 
invariably kind and gentlemanly to all. How 
utterly inexcusable in the London editor is the 
picturing of Poe as deficient in the sense of moral 
rectitude, and then, after deploring faults that 
exist only in the editor's imagination and Gris- 
wold's mendacities, to attempt, from the poet's 
writings, to reason us into the belief that all these 
fancied crimes were the f legitimate results of an 
inborn, innate depravity.' 

" This goes a step beyond the suggestion of the 
poet's New York biographer (Griswold) that Poe 
was f naturally of an unamiable disposition ; ' 
but, as if exulting in the clearness of his own 
perceptions, the ill-informed critic very com- 
placently concludes that with this key to the 
character of the poet, there is no difficulty in fully 
comprehending the strange inconsistencies, the 
baseness and nobleness which his wayward life 
exhibits. It is deeply to be regretted that any 
American memoir of the poet should ever have 
gone forth to the world capable of creating the 
false estimate, the unjust, because erroneous, im- 
pressions which have so prejudiced not only this, 



124 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

but every foreign writer who has undertaken the 
review of Mr. Poe." 

This testimony of one of the few contempo- 
raries of Poe, best calculated by intimate and 
long-continued association with him to judge, not 
only of his true character, but of the reliability of 
the published memoirs of the poet, has a signifi- 
cance that entitles it to an important place in our 
transcript of the history of Poe's life. 

During Poe's connection with Mr. Clarke, he 
completed an important prose work — a story 
which was to have been published serially in 
"The Stylus." 

Having expended the money advanced by Mr. 
Clarke for necessary preliminary expenses, he, 
upon the failure of the enterprise, left it with his 
co-partner in the magazine, as security for the 
amount used until he should be able to reclaim 
it for subsequent use in his chimerical monthly 
magazine, the idea of which, upon his part, he 
had by no means abandoned, as will be evident 
in later pages of our memoir. 

Circumstances, however, combined to prevent 
its reclamation by the author, and Mr. Clarke, 
after Poe's death, retained the MSS. of the story, 



FIRST APPEARANCE AS A LECTURER. 125 

designing to append it to the memoir of the poet, 
which he began but never completed. 

Following the failure of "The Stylus," Poe, 
in the summer of the same year, 1843, visited 
Baltimore, and there made his first appearance 
in the rostrum, and on the 25th of the following 
November, having returned to Philadelphia for 
the same purpose, he came out there in the role 
of lecturer for the first time. Of this perform- 
ance Mr Clarke writes in "The Museum," — 

" Quite a large, and certainly highly intelligent 
audience, attended the lecture on American 
Poetry, delivered by Edgar A. Poe, Esq., on 
Tuesday evening, before the William Wirt Lit- 
erary Institute. We have not leisure this week 
to give even a brief outline of the lecture, the 
character of which may be inferred from the rep- 
utation which Mr. Poe has so extensively enjoyed 
as a severe and impartial critic. Added to this 
important qualification the fact of the lecturer 
himself possessing talents as a poet of a high 
order, and therefore capable of more truly ap- 
preciating his subject, with great analytical pow- 
er, and that command of language and strength 
of voice which enables a speaker to give full ex- 



126 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

pression to whatever he may desire to say, it will 
readily be perceived that the lecturer on Tues- 
day evening combined qualities which are rarely 
associated in a public speaker. With the excep- 
tion of some occasional severity, which, however 
merited, may have appeared somewhat too per- 
sonal, the lecture gave general satisfaction, es- 
pecially the portions in which the eloquent 
sonnets of Judge Conrad, on the Lord's 
Prayer, were introduced. " The judicious read- 
ing of these created a marked sensation. 

" We hear it suggested that an attempt will be 
made to prevail on Mr. Poe to re-deliver this lec- 
ture in a more central place in the city. With 
some modification, it would bear repetition, and we 
dare say, the press will unite in forwarding these 
views, notwithstanding the cool manner in which 
Mr. P. laid bare its system of almost universal 
and indiscriminate eulogy, bestowed alike upon 
anything and everything — 'from the most elab- 
orate quarto of Noah Webster, down to a penny 
edition of Tom Thumb.'" 

During this year (1843) "The Dollar Maga- 
zine " offered a prize of one hundred dollars for a 
prose story, for which Poe was the successful com- 



FIRST APPEARANCE AS A LECTURER. i 2 J 

petitor, offering his ingenious " cipher " tale, " The 
Gold Bug," which is now probably the most 
popular of the author's stories in his native coun- 
try. He also wrote for "Lowell's Pioneer" and 
other journals. 




CHAPTER VI. 

CAREER IN NEW YORK. 
1844 — 1846. 

On "The Northern Monthly" — Engagement on the " Mirror" 

— Testimony of the Poet Willis — First Anonymous Publi- 
cation of- "The Raven" — The Authorship revealed by 
Poe's Recitation at a Soiree — Mrs. Browning's Commen- 
dation — Conflicting Opinions as to its Origin — Gilfillan's 
Malevolent Recklessness — The Americans of a Quarter of 
a Century ago — Poe's Intentional Concealment of Motive 

— Personal Romances — Testimony of Intimate Personal 
Friends — - Discrepancy of the Poet's Reading of " The Ra- 
ven " with his Printed Analysis of it ■ — Origin of Imagina- 
tive Compositions — Anecdote of Beethoven — The Clue to 
" The Raven " — Analysis of " The Raven " — Where " The 
Raven " was written — Mrs. Brennan's Reminiscences — 
The " Raven" Room — Insufficient Revenue of the Poet — 
Price paid for "The Raven" — J. R. Lowell's Criticism — 
Lecture in Boston — The Poet's Mischievous Propensity 

— Griswold's Ridiculous Charges — Reply to Boston Criti- 
cisms — E. P. Whipple's Testimony — The Poet's Social 
Life — Character of Intellect — Conversational Powers -, — 
Mrs. Osgood's Impressions — Failure with " The Broadway 
Journal" — "Literati "Papers — The Dum-English Quarrel 

— The Garbling of Poe's Work by Griswold. 

N the autumn of 1844, Poe accepted an 
offer from " The Northern Monthly " to 
become associate editor of that maga- 
zine, and removed to New York. While he 
(128) 




ON THE NORTHERN MONTHLY. 129 

was connected with this periodical, his life, giv- 
ing a brief but faithful sketch of the poet, was 
published in its columns, with a portrait which 
did Poe's intellectual head more justice than the 
caricatures presented in most of the published 
editions of his works. Griswold makes no men- 
tion of this "Life," of the existence of which he 
must have been aware. It was, we doubt not, 
too favorable to its subject, to suit the purposes of 
the falsifier. 

The metropolis was not then the great centre 
for periodical publications that it has come to be 
now, and Poe found but scanty return for his 
efforts, while his position was necessarily humbler 
than that which he had occupied as editor-in-chief 
of " Graham's." 

To eke out his slender means, he accepted, in 
the autumn of this year, a subordinate position 
upon " The Mirror," a daily journal conducted 
by N. P. Willis and George Morris. 

The poet Willis, alluding to his connection 
with "The Mirror," writes,— 

" Some four or five years since, when editing a 
daily paper in this city, Mr. Poe was employed 
by us, for several months, as critic and sub-editor. 



130 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



This was our first personal acquaintance with 
him. He resided with his wife and mother at 
Fordham, a few miles out of town, but was at 
his desk in the office from nine in the morning till 
the evening paper went to press. With the high- 
est admiration for his genius, and a willingness 
to let it atone for. more than ordinary irregularity, 
we were led by common report to expect a very 
capricious attention to his duties, and occasionally 
a scene of violence and difficulty. Time went 
on, however, and he was invariably punctual and 
industrious. With his pale, beautiful and intel- 
lectual face as a reminder of what genius was in 
him, it was impossible, of course, not to treat him 
always with deferential courtesy, and, to our oc- 
casional request that he would not probe too deep 
in a criticism, or that he would erase a passage 
colored too highly with his resentments against 
society and mankind, he readily and courteously 
assented — far more yielding than most men, we 
thought, on points so excusably sensitive. With 
a prospect of taking the lead in another periodi- 
cal, he, at last, voluntarily gave up his employ- 
ment with us, and through all this considerable 
period, we had seen but one presentment of the 



Fac-Simile of Letter from N. P. Willis. 




y\^c^tr^ /2 








t-. 



/^a- * r-_ 



4~ 






Fac-Simile of Letter from N. P. Willis. 

' /2. 




/ *L~r t~ r~ '-*■ 




yi^.^^J^, 



PUBLICATION OF THE RAVEN. 



1 3 1 



man — a quiet, patient, industrious and most gen- 
tlemanly person, commanding the utmost respect 
and good feeling by his unvarying deportment 
and ability."* 

Poe was engaged upon " The Mirror " for six 
months, and during this time, in addition to his 
"fag" work upon the paper, he produced several 
of his most remarkable works, notably his master- 
piece in poetry, "The Raven," which was first pub- 
lished in the February number of " The American 
Review," over the nom de -plume of " Quarles," 
and immediately arrested general attention. 

Poe had at this time the entree of the select 
social circle of the metropolis, and frequently at- 
tended, sometimes with his fair young wife, the 
weekly receptions held at the residence of a prom- 
inent poetess in Waverly place. At one of these 
soirees, at the request of the accomplished hostess, 
he recited" The Raven, " with an effect that fairly 
electrified the assemblage. From this time the 
authorship of the poem, of course, became known, 
and the laurel leaves of fame were showered 
thickly upon the hitherto comparatively unap- 
preciated author. 

* We give in facsimile an autograph letter written by 
Willis to Poe at this time, attesting the kindly, familiar rela- 
tions existing between them. 



132 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



Mr. Willis reprinted the poem over Poe's 
name, and gave it a send-off in the following en- 
thusiastic words : "We regard it as the most 
effective single example of fugitive poetry ever 
published in this country, and it is unsurpassed 
in English poetry for subtle conception, masterly 
ingenuity of versification, and consistent sustain- 
ing of imaginative lift." 

Mrs. Browning, in a private letter written a 
few weeks after its publication in England, says, 
w This weird writing, this power which is felt, 
has produced a sensation here in England. Some 
of my friends are taken by the fear of it, and 
some by the music. I hear of persons who are 
haunted by the ' Nevermore,' and an acquaint- 
ance of mine who has the misfortune of possess- 
ing a bust of Pallas cannot bear to look at it in the 
twilight. Then there is a tale going the rounds 
of the newspapers about mesmerism,* which is 
throwing us all into e most admired disorder ' — 
dreadful doubts as to whether it can be true, as 
the children say of ghost stories. The certain 
thing about it is the power of the writer." 

One of Poe's relentless biographers, evidently 

* " The Facts in the Case of M. de Valdemar." 



CONFLICTING OPINIONS. 



m 



referring to the source of the inspiration of " The 
Raven," has presumed recklessly to write that his 
wife Virginia died a victim to the neglect and 
unkindness of her husband, " who," he writes, 
" deliberately sought her death that he might em- 
balm her memory in immortal dirges." 

Other writers have reiterated this cruel fabri- 
cation, and Gilfillan, fiendishly ascribing to the 
poet passions controlled by the presence of art 
until they resembled sculptured flame, writes that 
he caused the death of his wife that he might 
have a fitting theme for "The Raven." As the 
lamented Virginia died more than a year after the 
publication of "The Raven," this ingenious 
theory, it appears, rests upon a purely imaginary 
basis. 

As it is well known that Poe was very tena- 
cious of his literary reputation, and acutely ap- 
preciative of the honors that belong to fame, it 
has been deemed not a little remarkable that he 
should have put forth what he must have known 
to have been a remarkable poem, anonymously, 
and at a time, too, when his name was most 
prominently known to the literary world. But it 
must be remembered that Poe lived in an epoch 



134 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



when minds of his stamp were not only not un- 
derstood nor sympathized with, but were abso- 
lutely ridiculed by the world at large. 

Of the Americans of this period, Powell, in 
his "Living Authors," aptly and ably writes, 
" America is jealous of her victories by sea and 
land, is proud of advantages with which she has 
nothing to do, such as Niagara, the Mississippi, 
and the other wonders of nature. An American 
points with pride to the magnificent steamboats 
which ride the waters like things of life. 

" Foreigners sometimes smile at the honest sat- 
isfaction, even enthusiasm, which lights up the 
national face when a few hundred troops file 
down Broadway to discordant drums and squeak- 
ing fifes. But all their natural feeling and na- 
tional pride stops here. So far from the American 
public taking any interest in their own men of 
genius, in the triumphs of mind, they absolutely 
allow others openly to conspire and put down 
every attempt to establish a national literature. 

" The Americans are a shrewd and far-seeing 
people, but they are somewhat too material. 
How can America expect her young authors to 
vindicate her national glory when she treats them 
with indifference and neglect?" 



CONCEALMENT OF MOTIVE. 



135 



To the constituency so graphically described 
by Powell, the genius of Poe was forced to ad- 
dress itself or remain silent forever. That he 
met its cold, hard, unsympathetic reception with 
the fierce disdain that found its outlet in his 
scathing criticisms of the typical men of the time, 
is not to be wondered at, nor is it less surprising 
that he should shrink from laying bare the secrets 
of his soul to those so incapable of comprehend- 
ing their depths. 

When, therefore, in his silent vigils, enthralled 
by the imaginative ecstasy which often possessed 
and overpowered him, he conceived and wrought 
out this marvellous inspiration, what wonder is it 
that his delicate sensibility should prompt him to 
conceal from the rude gaze of his material audi- 
ence the secret springs of his inner consciousness, 
by printing his chef d'ceuvre over an assumed 
name, and hedging its origin about with the im- 
penetrable veil of fiction. 

Had " The Raven " been, as he described in his 
paper, "The Philosophy of Composition," a pro- 
duct of art simply, and not of inspiration, his 
ambition for fame would infallibly have led him, 
not only to claim the poem openly from the out- 



136 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

set, but to have preluded it with the descriptive 
analysis, using the verse as an illustration of the 
alleged philosophy of the composition. To his 
intimates, Poe frequently spoke of the exalted 
state, which he defined as ecstasy, in which he 
wrote his poems of imagination. From one of 
his nearest friends, who knew him in prosperity 
and adversity, in sickness and health, we learn 
that none of Poe's romances were more fictitious 
than his romances about himself and his writings, 
and his accepted analysis of "The Raven" is 
confessedly as thorough a specimen of plausible 
fabrication as is his familiar story of "The Facts 
in the Case of Monsieur de Valdemar." Like 
all persons of a highly wrought condition, he re- 
sented the slightest approach from the world at 
large, and from practical people in particular, 
to the inner citadel of his soul, and he knew well 
how to use his invincible weapons of defence. 

Many admirers of the poet's genius will doubt- 
less prefer that the origin of the inspiration of 
" The Raven " shall remain enshrouded in the 
chiaro-oscuro of the mystic suggestiveness of 
the verse. 

But in a much wider circle, there unquestion- 



tv*w 



Fac-Simile of Letter from George R. Graham. 






Fac-Simile of Letter from George R. Graham. 

^ cyibe~~U.£ ct^Xi **-**. o^vt #~U, /r<^^ 






£ ^«^t-J-. 



^ «^e~ A~^£ 0~*<v-* «^/c<^ ^~ ^ #^^€ / ^"^ 
erf Lt^ (U~C~<* QjcT^^l+^/T&vty 



*7 



GRAHAM'S LETTER. 



137 



ably exists a pardonable desire to learn the true 
source of this wonderful poem, that, written in 
any age, in any language, would have given to 
its author a world-wide fame. 

Postulating the opinions which we venture to 
advance here, upon the result of a process of 
psychological introversion, which conclusion is 
confirmed by several of Poe's most intimate ac- 
quaintances now living, strengthened by a chain 
of conclusive circumstantial evidence, we have 
arrived at a theory of the origin of the poem that 
has received the approval of Mr. George R. 
Graham, and others of Poe's friends. 

A letter received from Mr. Graham, May 1st, 
1877, in this connection, will be read with in- 
terest, from the writer's near and friendly inti- 
macy with the poet. 

W. F. Gill, Esc^ 

Dear Sir : From my near acquaintance with Edgar A. Poe 
at the time " The Raven" was written, I have no doubt that 
your theory as to the source of the inspiration of The Raven 
is in the main correct. It was his foible to mislead and mys- 
tify his readers. 

His published analysis of "The Raven " is a good specimen 
of his capability in this kind of fiction. 

Your impression that the poet was accessible to fear, is 



138 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

entirely correct. He was singularly sensitive to outside influ 
ences, more so than most imaginative men. 

His organization, as I have always" said, was extremely 
delicate and fine. Hence his impressibility, and subjection 
at times to influences which would not have a feather's weight 
with ordinary men. 

Even when absorbed in writing, I noticed that a sudden 
breath of air, a noise unheard by others around him, would 
startle him. 

He disliked the dark, and was rarely out at night when I 
knew him. On one occasion he said to me, " I believe that de- 
mons take advantage of the night to mislead the unwary" — 
" although, you know," he added, " I don't believe in them." 

The mysteries of his inner life were never revealed to any 
one, but his intimates well understood that to mystify his 
hearer was a strong element of his mind. 
Yours very truly, 

Geo. R. Graham. 

New York, May i, 1877. 

It is a singular fact that Poe's reading of 
?? The Raven " in private, was totally at variance 
with the reading of it as a mere composition. 

Had it been constructed, as described by him 
in his essay on composition, his reading would, 
unquestionably, have been in accordance with 
this description, for Poe was too good an elocu- 
tionist to fail to adequately voice his conceptions. 



ANECDOTE OF BEETHOVEN. 



139 



As a mere composition, it is impossible to give 
to the reading of the poem a tithe of the vrai- 
semblance which attaches to it, when rendered 
according to the theory of its foundation upon 
an actual experience of the poet. 

But for Poe's evident intent to conceal his 
authorship of the poem, there would be but little 
expectation of finding any clue to the source of 
its inspiration. But the fact of the deliberate and 
exceptional concealment \ evidences conclusively 
enough that there was, in the poet's own experi- 
ence, some basis of fact whereon his imaginative 
structure was erected. 

That some of the most exquisite imaginative 
fabrics ever constructed have been wrought from 
the suggestions afforded by some special experi- 
ence, or by a chance incident or circumstance, 
there are many familiar examples to demonstrate. 

Beethoven's beautiful "Moonlight Sonata" 
was suggested by a romantic incident during the 
composer's sojourn at Bonn. Mrs. Julia Ward 
Howe's " Battle Hymn of the Republic " was a 
special inspiration which came to her, after wit- 
nessing a romantic moonlight march of the troops 
during the war of the American rebellion. 



140 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

In seeking for the clue to "The Raven," we find, 
in recalling the situation of the poet at this time, 
that he was living at Bloomingdale, New York. 

While at this place, and previous to the ap- 
pearance of " The Raven," his child-wife, Vir- 
ginia, whom he loved with a purity and intensity 
that was little short of adoration, was prostrated 
by a serious illness, which had previously afflict- 
ed her, and for weeks her life hung by a thread. 
Animation was at times, indeed, seemingly sus- 
pended, and on one dreary December night, the 
poet was agonized to find her cold and breath- 
less, apparently dead. 

In his lonely, silent vigils in what was, to all 
intents and purpose, the presence of death, many 
strange imageries and much bitter self-accusation 
naturally came to him. Although uniformly 
kind and tender to his wife, he had been weak 
and erring from his unfortunate susceptibility to 
drink, and an exaggerated sense of wrong done 
to his lost loved one, through his weakness, not 
unnaturally came to him at this time, exciting the 
most irrational remorse. His unreasoning, ago- 
nized repining, undoubtedly took such complete 
possession of him as to completely surcharge his 



ANAL TSIS OF THE RA VEN. 



141 



mind with the imaginative reveries " that no mor- 
tal ever dared to dream before ; " and in picturing 
to himself his wife as departed, his remorse also 
forbade him any hope of meeting her in the 
distant Aidenn of the future. With the added 
factor of some fugitive bird, or domestic pet (the 
Poes always kept them) breaking in upon his 
wild reveries with some slight interruption which 
the poet's distorted fancy exaggerated into some 
supernatural visitant, an adequate basis for his 
masterpiece is found. 

That this suggestion of the possible origin of 
"The Raven " is at least plausible, an analysis of 
the construction of the poem, coupled with the 
peculiar characteristics of the poet, will perhaps 
evidence. 

Like many persons of an imaginative, nervous 
temperament, Poe was susceptible, in certain 
moods, to a positive sense of the supernatural. 
This sense he has defined in his letters describ- 
ing visions suggesting singular fancies. 

In his normal state, he did not possess the ele- 
ment of fear ; but when his mind was overwrought 
to the extent that it frequently was, he was sus- 
ceptible to impressions that at other times would 
have affected him very differently. 



142 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

We find this dread of the supernatural barely 
hinted at in the first verse, wherein his weariness 
and loneliness are principally depicted. 

The second verse simply describes his isolation, 
and his sorrow for his lost love. The train of 
thought inspired by his breathing his hopeless 
sorrow, is quickly followed by the self-accusation 
of his remorse for his past, and the vision of an 
accusing fate dawns upon him, as he recalls the 
sharp sound that interrupted his loneliness, and 
strange terrors overcome him. 

He is, in fact, beside himself with fear^ and, 
as a person in such a state would be likely to do, 
he endeavors to allay his imaginative dread by 
ascribing them to some commonplace cause : 

" ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, — 
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door : 
This it is, and nothing more." 

He nerves himself up to the effort required to 
throw off his supernatural terror, and opens the 
door to discover the cause of the noise. He finds 
nothing but the darkness. His fears, not having 
been dispelled, as they would have been had he 
at this time discovered some practical cause for 



ANAL TSIS OF THE RA VEN. 



H3 



the interruption, are naturally confirmed, and 
new visions are inspired, and the supposed myste- 
rious visitant takes the form of the spirit of his 
lost one. 

In an ecstasy of dread and excitement, he re- 
turns to his lonely watch, only to be again inter- 
rupted by a similar noise at the window. 

To his delight and surprise, his mysterious visi- 
tor takes the welcome form of a truant bird, or 
some other pet, that has escaped, and returned 
after the house was closed for the night. 

His supernatural dread immediately gives place 
to a sense of relief at the material presence of - 
his dumb visitor, and, pacified for the moment, 
his imaginative fears take flight, and he sits down 
and merrily chaffs his unexpected guest, glad of 
any means of occupying his attention and taking 
his mind off from the morbid imaginings that had 
possessed it. But under all the would-be blithe- 
some colloquy with his visitor, his fancy will 
revert to the hopeless dread that has overpow- 
ered him, and like the haunted criminal in MM. 
Erckmann and Chatrian's drama of " The Bells," 
his imagination coins but one word in answer to 
his every query ; and as Matthias Kant, in the 



i44 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



play, is pursued everywhere by the weird jingle 
of the bells, so the mocking " Nevermore ! " 
seemed to hover in the air, sounding the knell of 
his lost hopes. 

The refrain is not, however, to our mind, in- 
vested with any supernatural suggestiveness in 
the earlier portions of the poem. Were it so, the 
poet would have indicated it in the verse. On 
the contrary, he writes, — 

" Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so 

plainly, 
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy, bore : " 

clearly indicating that his impression was simply 
one of -surprise, not, at first, of fear. 

This idea is confirmed in the opening line of 
the twelfth stanza of the poem : 

"But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling" 

which clearly evidences that, up to this point, the 
impression produced by the appearance of the 
bird, had not excited any other emotions than the 
very natural ones of surprise and amusement. 
But immediately after this, the poet permits him- 
self to do a very hazardous thing for his peace 
of mind, for he betook himself "/0 linking fancy 



ANAL TSIS OF THE RA VEN. 145 

unto fancy," until, at the end of the next stanza, 
we find him just where he was at the begin- 
ning, the lighter train of thought suggested 
by the entrance of his visitor having merged 
itself in the reminiscences of his lost Lenore, 
with whom, for the first time in the course of the 
interview, it occurs to him to connect the bird. 

Nothing, it seems to us, is at once so natural 
and ingenious as the manner of the leading up, 
in the verse, to this necessary connection of the 
bird with the subject of the poet's imageries. 

The careless, blithesome opening line of the 
twelfth stanza, already quoted, is in such bold 
contrast to the sad, closing line of the next stan- 
za that it seems inexplicable that these opposing 
ideas could have been so congruously reconciled 
by so simple a device as the deft placing of the 
"cushioned seat" with its " violet velvet lining." 

From this point, the atmosphere of the scene 
changes, and becomes merged in the supernatural ; 
the changes of the atmosphere being clearly indi- 
cated by the lines, — 

"Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an 

unseen censer 
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted 

floor." 



146 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



The bird, no longer a bird to the distorted 
vision of the poet, assumes to his gaze the 
shape, first, of an angel, then of an avenging 
demon. 

In one moment of rhapsody, he grasps with fran- 
tic joy at the fitful hope of K Nepenthe " for his 
remorse, only to be cast down to the depths of 
despair by the re-action which succeeds this still- 
born hope. 

Invested by the poet's fancy with the spirit of 
prophecy, the bird from that moment assumes to 
him the form of a Nemesis, and replies to his 
plaints with the oracular solemnity of a remorse- 
less fate. There are no bounds to the mental 
anguish depicted in the stanza beginning, — 

" Be that word our sign of parting," 

and no limit to the abject despair portrayed in 
the following, the closing, stanza. 

In voicing his imaginary conception in verse, 
it is not singular that Poe should have selected 
the raven as typical of his fateful visitor ; for the 
raven has, for ages past, been renowned as sym- 
bolical of ill-omen, and for the purposes of the 
narration of the story, a talking bird was indis- 



WHERE THE RAVEN WAS WRITTEN. 147 

pensable. What other than the raven could have 
been effectively employed? 

The refrain " Nevermore ! " was not less ob- 
viously selected, as suggestive, both in sense and 
sound, of the poet's fateful inspiration. 

It will, we think, be conceded that the spon- 
taneity which is an all-pervading characteristic 
of such of the poems as are known to have 
been inspired by some actual person, such as 
"To Helen," "Annabel Lee" and "For Annie," 
exists not less palpably in "The Raven." Like 
these others, it sings itself, to a strange melody, 
it is true, but not less naturally or truly, and with 
an exalted beauty of rhythm that seems born of 
a special inspiration. 

The house where " The Raven " was written, 
stands on a rocky and commanding eminence, a 
few hundred feet from the corner of Eighty-fourth 
street and the St. Nicholas boulevard, formerly 
the Bloomingdale road. It is a plain, old-fash- 
ioned, double-framed dwelling, two stories high, 
with eight windows on each side and one at 
either gable. 

It has a pointed roof, flanked by two tall brick 
chimneys. 



148 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

Old and weather-beaten, it now arrests the at- 
tention of the passer-by in a neighborhood where 
most of the houses are of modern construction. 

No date can be found for the erection of this 
quaint building, but it is known that nearly a 
hundred years ago it gave shelter to General 
Washington and his officers. 

A Mrs. Mary Brennan, who occupied the 
house for forty-seven years, knew it as bearing a 
reputation for antiquity before she moved into it. 

To Mrs. Brennan it was that Poe, in the early 
part of the spring of 1844, applied for rooms 
during the season. 

At that time the house was located among the. 
picturesque surroundings of primeval trees, and 
the beauty of the place had not then been- marred 
by rock-blasting and street-cutting. 

Virginia and Mrs. Clemm were, of course, with 
the poet. They lived together in " The Raven " 
room during the day, and at night the mother- 
in-law retired to a small chamber down stairs. 

Poe called Virginia "Diddy,"and Mrs. Clemm 
"Muddie."* They received no visitors, and 
took their meals in their room by themselves. 

* Names which Virginia had given to her mother and her- 
self in her childhood. 




The House where "The Raven" was written. 




The Room where "The Raven" was written. 



MRS. BRENNAN'S REMINISCENCES. 149 

His landlady recalls the poet as a shy, solitary, 
taciturn person, fond of rambling alone through 
the woods or of sitting on a favorite stump of a 
tree down near the banks of the Hudson River. 
There she has often observed him gesticulating 
wildly, and loudly and excitedly soliloquizing. 
She speaks of him as eccentric, and yet as very 
quiet and gentlemanly in his manners. He 
wore, at this time, a small moustache, which he 
had a habit of nervously twirling. 

The " Raven " room had two windows in front, 
and two at the back, facing the woods. 

When not at his favorite seat by the river's 
brink, he would place himself at one of the front 
windows, and with Virginia by his side, watch 
for hours the fading glories of the summer even- 
ing skies. 

At this -time, although engaged upon "The 
Mirror," and writing for several magazines, his 
revenues were pitifully small. He was able to 
pay for his board, but, beyond that, his needs were 
but scantily met. 

The " Raven " room is little altered since the 
time Poe occupied it. It has a modern mantel- 
piece, painted black and most elaborately carved. 



x 5 o 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



Poe's name may be found in fine letters cut upon 
one side of it. His writing-table stood by one 
of the front windows, and, while seated before it, 
he could look down upon the rolling waters of 
the Hudson and over at the Palisades beyond. 
It was a fitting dwelling for a poet, and though 
not far from the city's busy hum, the atmosphere 
of solitude and remoteness was as actual, as if 
the spot had been in the heart of the Rocky 
Mountains. 

Poe finished " The Raven " in the winter of 
1844, and remained with Mrs. Brennan most of 
the time until the middle of the following sum- 
mer, when he removed to the city proper. 

It is gratifying to be able to record that during 
the entire period of Poe's stay at this house he 
carried himself with exemplary correctness, for 
the reason, undoubtedly, that he was far removed 
from the social temptations which so frequently 
beset him in other places. 

One of the most amusing Griswoldisms to be 
found in the reverend doctor's memoir of Poe is 
his allusion to the public's appreciation of the poet, 
and to the compensation paid him for his work. 

K It is not true," he says, " as has been fre- 



PRICE PAID FOR THE RA VEN. 



*S* 



quently alleged since Mr. Poe's death, that his 
writings were above the popular taste, and there- 
fore without a suitable market in this country. 
His poems were worth as much to magazines as 
those of Bryant and Longfellow (though none 
of the publishers paid him half as large a -price 
for them), and his tales were as popular as those 
of Willis, who has been commonly regarded as 
the best magazinist of his time." 

Dr. Griswold's parenthesis is as neat a speci- 
men of a Hibernianism as can be instanced. But 
the doctor's reputation among those who knew 
him best, was not that of a logician. In fact, a 
gentleman of the highest culture, a contemporary 
of Griswold, now living in New York, speaks of 
him as one of those characters in whom the habit 
of lying had come to be in such a degree a sec- 
ond nature, as to be excusable on the ground of 
the falsifier's personal irresponsibility for what 
was not always a conscious act. 

Poe got ten dollars for " The Raven," not, in 
those times, it would seem, a sum so absolutely 
insignificant as has been alleged by some of his 
biographers, for, it must be remembered, it ap- 
peared anonymously as originally published. 



152 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



Still, considering the artistic merits of the poem, 
the material quid fro quo was not munificent, 
although the author was unquestionably repaid 
ten-fold in the rich fruits which it brought to him 
in what was more precious than silver or gold. 

The fame which "The Raven" gave to him 
also justified bringing out a new and improved 
collection of poems, including his masterpiece, 
issued by Messrs. Wiley & Putnam, and also 
two different selections from his " Tales ;" but the 
prices of books were then so low, and the reading 
public so limited, that he reaped but little pecu- 
niary advantage from these volumes. 
- In " Graham's Magazine" for February, 1845, 
appeared a portrait of Poe, accompanied by a 
biographical sketch by Professor James Russell 
Lowell. That this is the ablest and most notable 
of the many sketches of Poe that have appeared, 
goes without saying, for no other writer as gifted 
with every attribute that goes to make the poet 
and the critic, has ever taken pen in hand in the 
name and for the weal of Poe. 

Of the poet's earlier poems, Professor Lowell 
writes, "We call them the most remarkable boy- 
ish poems that we have ever read. We know of 



y. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 153 

none that can compare with them for maturity of 
purpose and a nice understanding of the effects 
of the language and metre." Of the lines "To 
Helen," he says, "The grace and symmetry of 
the outline are such as few poets ever attain. 
There is a smack of ambrosia about it." 

On his analysis of Poe's genius , Lowell writes , — 
"Mr. Poe has two of the prime qualities of 
genius : a faculty of vigorous, yet minute, analysis, 
and a wonderful fecundity of imagination. The 
first of these faculties is as needful to the artist 
in words, as a knowledge of anatomy is to the 
artist in colors or in stone. This enables him to 
conceive truly, to maintain a proper relation of 
parts, and to draw a correct outline, while the 
second groups, fills up and colors. Both of 
these Mr. Poe has displayed with singular dis- 
tinctness in his prose works, the last predominat- 
ing in his earlier tales, and the first in his later 
ones. In judging of the merit of an author, and 
assigning him his niche among our household 
gods, we have a right to regard him from our 
own point of view, and to measure him by our 
own standard. But in estimating the amount of 
power displayed in his works, we must be gov- 



*54 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



erned by his own design, and, placing them by 
the side of his own ideal, find how much is 
wanting. We differ from Mr. Poe in his opin- 
ions of the objects of art. He esteems that 
object to be the creation of beauty, and perhaps 
it is only in the definition of that word that we 
disagree with him. But in what we shall say of 
his writings, we shall take his own standard as 
our guide. The temple of the god of song is 
equally accessible from every side, and there is 
room enough in it for all who bring offerings, or 
seek an oracle. 

"In his tales, Mr. Poe has chosen to exhibit 
his power chiefly in that dim region which 
stretches from the very utmost limits of the prob- 
able into the weird confines of superstition and 
unreality. He combines, in a very remarkable 
manner, two faculties which are seldom found 
united : a power of influencing the mind of the 
reader by the impalpable shadows of mystery, 
a nd a minuteness of detail which does not leave 
a pin or a button unnoticed. Both are, in truth, 
the natural results of the predominating quality 
of his mind, to -which we have before alluded, 
analysis. It is this which distinguishes the ar- 



J. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 155 

tist. His mind at once reaches forward to the 
effect to be produced. Having resolved to bring 
about certain emotions in the reader, he makes 
all subordinate parts tend strictly to the common 
centre. Even his mystery is mathematical to 
his own mind. To him x is a known quantity 
all along. In any picture that he paints, he un- 
derstands the chemical properties of all his colors. 
However vague some of his figures may seem, 
however formless the shadows, to him the out- 
line is as clear and distinct as that of a geometrical 
diagram. For .this reason Mr. Poe has no sym- 
pathy with Mysticism. The Mystic dwells in 
the mystery, is enveloped with it; it colors all his 
thoughts ; it effects his optic nerve especially, 
and the commonest things get a rainbow edging 
from it. Mr. Poe, on the other hand, is a spec- 
tator ab extra. He analyzes, he dissects, he 
watches 

' with an eye serene, 

The verj pulse of the machine,' 

for such it practically is to him, with wheels and 
cogs and piston-rods, all working to produce a 
certain end. 



1 56 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

"This analyzing tendency of his mind bal- 
ances the poetical, and, by giving him the pa- 
tience to be minute, enables him to throw a 
wonderful reality into his most unreal fancies. 
A monomania he paints with great power. He 
loves to dissect one of these cancers of the mind, 
and to trace all the subtle ramifications of its 
roots. In raising images of horror, also, he has 
a strange success ; conveying to us, sometimes by 
a dusky hint, some terrible doubt which is the 
secret of all horror. He leaves to Imagination 
the task of finishing the picture, a task to which 
only she is competent. 

' For much imaginary work was there; 
Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, 
That for Achilles' image stood his spear 
Grasped in an armed hand; himself behind 
Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind.' 

"Beside the merit of conception, Mr. Poe's 
writings have also that of form. His style is 
highly finished, graceful, and truly classical. It 
would be hard to find a living author who had 
displayed such varied powers. As an example 
of his style, we would refer to one of his tales, 
* The House of Usher,' in the first volume of his 



J. R. LOWELL'S CRITICISM. 157 

'Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque.' It has 
a singular charm for us ; and we think that no 
one could read it without being strongly moved 
by its serene and sombre beauty. Had its author 
written nothing else, it would alone have been 
enough to stamp him as a man of genius, and 
the master of a classic style. In this tale occurs, 
perhaps, the most beautiful of his poems. 

"The great masters of imagination have sel- 
dom resorted to the vague and the unreal as 
sources of effect. They have not used dread 
and horror alone, but only in combination with 
other qualities, as means of subjugating the fan- 
cies of their readers. The loftiest muse has ever 
a household and fireside charm about her. Mr. 
Poe's secret lies mainly in the skill with which he 
has employed the strange fascination of mystery 
and terror. In this his success is so great and 
striking as to deserve the name of art, not arti- 
fice. We cannot call his materials the noblest or 
purest, but we must concede to him the highest 
merit of construction." 

Of his abilities as a critic, Lowell says, — 
"As a critic, Mr. Poe was aesthetically defi- 
cient. Unerring in his analysis of dictions, 



158 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

metres and plots, he seemed wanting in the fac- 
ulty of perceiving the profounder ethics of art. 
His criticisms are, however, distinguished for 
scientific precision and coherence of logic. They 
have the exactness, and at the same time the 
coldness, of mathematical demonstrations. Yet 
they stand in strikingly refreshing contrast with 
the vague generalisms and sharp personalities of 
the day. If deficient in warmth, they are also 
without the heat of partisanship. They are es- 
pecially valuable as illustrating the great truth, 
too generally overlooked, that analytic power is 
a subordinate quality of the critic. 

" On the whole, it may be considered certain 
that Mr. Poe has attained an individual eminence 
in our literature which he will keep. He has 
given proof of power and originality. He has 
done that which could only be done once with 
success or safety, and the imitation or repetition 
of which would produce weariness." 

After six months of service with " The Mirror," 
Poe accepted an offer from Mr. C. H. Briggs to 
join him in conducting a new literary gazette, 
"The Broadway Journal." He wrote many im- 
portant criticisms for the columns of " The Broad- 



LECTURE IN BOSTON. 



*59 



way," among which the more notable were a 
paper on Mrs. Browning's (then Miss Barrett's) 
poems, and an essay on plagiarism. The latter 
was not in his best vein nor his best mood, and, 
we doubt not, from private letters that we have 
seen, that he sincerely regretted the animus 
which he permitted himself to bring to this arti- 
cle. 

In March of this year (1845), he delivered his 
lecture on "The Poets and Principles of Poetry " 
before the Society Library of New York. 

The New England Lyceum had, even at this 
early period, begun to bud, and the favorable 
mention of the poet's poetic lecture drew forth an 
invitation to deliver a poem before the Boston 
Lyceum. 

Apropos of Poe's acceptance of this invita- 
tion, and the circumstances incident to its fulfil- 
ment. Dr. Griswold devotes considerable space 
to an elaborate misstatement of the affair. Our 
lecture managers and lecture public were more ex- 
acting twenty-five years ago, on some points, than 
at the present time. JVow, it suffices for a reputa- 
ble celebrity to show himself upon the rostrum. 
Provided he does not occupy too much time (one 



x 6o LIFE OF EDGAR A, FOE. 

hour or an hour and fifteen minutes is about the 
fashionable limit), he maybe sure of copious ap- 
plause, of fervent congratulations from beaming 
managers, and a plethoric purse upon retiring. 
Then, O insatiable manager and exacting public ! 
the best literary work expressly performed for the 
occasion was demanded, or woe betide the celeb- 
rity who failed to meet these requirements ! 

Poe was probably fully conscious of this, and, 
not unlike other geniuses in the history of the 
literary world, was driven well-nigh frantic in 
contemplation of his task of the " written-express- 
ly-for-this-occasion poem." It ended as most of 
these unequal contests between inspiration and 
necessity have ended time and time again. The 
day arrived, and no new creations had been 
evolved from the goaded and temporarily irre- 
sponsive brain. He went to Boston to fill his en- 
gagement, nerved to meet the ordeal by a spirit 
which brought him compensation for his anxiety, 
— a spirit which Mr. E. P. Whipple, the distin- 
guished essayist, at that time immediately asso- 
ciated with Poe, most aptly describes as intellect- 
ual mischief. He could not do what he had been 
invited to do : well, he would make them believe 



GRIS WOLD'S RIDICULOUS CHARGES. 161 

that he had filled the demand, if he could, and 
then honestly own up, and let them laugh at him 
and with him over the juvenile poem he gave. 

Dr. Griswold makes a labored effort to show 
that Poe's failure to meet his engagement to the 
letter was due to cares, anxieties, and "feebleness 
of will." The charge of feebleness of will, ap- 
plied to Poe in his strictly literary capacity, :s 
perhaps one of the most sapient bits of analysis 
of which the reverend and profound doctor has 
delivered himself. As regards Dr. Griswold's 
mention of the assistance of Mrs. Osgood, desired 
by Poe,, it is so manifestly absurd that the biog- 
rapher's ingenuity and invention fail to enlist any 
credence in this bit of fiction. 

The literary world of Boston, twenty-five years 
ago, was marked by characteristics that rendered 
it anything but liberal and indulgent. Had Poe 
had the fortunate tact to disarm his audience by 
w owning up " at the outset, and in advance, deftly 
knuckling, as he might have done, to its boasted 
literary acumen and perceptiveness, all might 
have been well. But he chose rather to indulge 
his mischievous propensity, to his cost, as it after- 
wards proved. In his card in M The Broadway 



1 62 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

Journal," the poet, in acknowledging his confes- 
sion to a company of gentlemen at a supper 
which took place after the reading, truly says, in 
closing, "We should have waited a couple of 
days." He should indeed have waited ; for 
among the company was a pitcher that could not 
contain the water, and the premature leak, being 
made public, naturally aroused a storm of indig- 
nant criticism upon the poet's assumption. His 
long poem had been applauded to the echo, and 
the reading of "The Raven" afterwards had sent 
the audience home in the best of spirits. Poe 
was too frank and impulsive to keep the joke to 
himself, and, finding that he had not taken in all 
of the men with brains who received him, he, 
without a word of solicitation, made a clean 
breast of it. 

The joke was too good to keep. It was very 
speedily ventilated, and of course got to news- 
paporial headquarters in a very short time. The 
poet was accordingly pretty thoroughly scarified 
by the outraged puritanical press of proper Bos- 
ton, and had the temerity to reply in the columns 
of " The Broadway," of which he had become, 
in October, 1845, the sole proprietor. 



REPLY TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 



163 



His account is worth reproducing, as Griswold 
has made some special contradictions of the 
poet's statements, which cannot be permitted to 
stand. Poe's reply is founded upon a paragraph 
which appeared in "Noah's Sunday Times," 
based upon an article in the " Boston Transcript " 
severely commenting upon "the poem." 

" Our excellent friend, Major Noah, has suf- 
fered himself to be cajoled by that most beguiling 
of all beguiling little divinities, Miss Walter, of 
'The Transcript.' We have been looking all 
over her article with the aid of a taper, to see if 
we could discover a single syllable of truth in it 
— and really blush to acknowledge that we can- 
not. The adorable creature has been telling a 
parcel of fibs about us, by way of revenge for 
something that we did to Mr. Longfellow (who 
admires her very much) , and for calling her f a 
pretty little witch ' into the bargain. The facts of 
the case seem to be these : We were invited to 
'deliver' (stand and deliver) a poem before the 
Boston Lyceum. As a matter of course, we ac- 
cepted the invitation. The audience was x large 
and distinguished.' Mr. Cushing* preceded us 



* Hon. Caleb Cushing, then recently returned from his 
mission to China. 



i64 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

with a very capital discourse. He was much ap- 
plauded. On arising we were most cordially re- 
ceived. We occupied some fifteen minutes with an 
apology for not ? delivering,' as is usual in such 
cases, a didactic poem; a didactic poem, in our 
opinion, being precisely no poem at all. After 
some further words — still of apology — for the 
'indefiniteness' and f general imbecility' of what 
we had to offer — all so unworthy a Bostonian 
audience — we commenced, and with many in- 
terruptions of applause, concluded. Upon the 
whole, the approbation was considerably more 
(the more the pity too) than that bestowed upon 
Mr. Cushing. When we had made an end, the 
audience, of course, rose to depart ; and about one 
tenth of them, probably, had really departed, when 
Mr. Coffin, one of the managing committee, 
arrested those who remained, by the announce- 
ment that we had been requested to deliver ? The 
Raven.' We delivered 'The Raven' forthwith 
— (without taking a receipt) — were very cor- 
dially applauded again — and this was the end 
of it — with the exception of the sad tale invent- 
ed to suit her own purposes, by that amiable 
little enemy of ours, Miss Walter. We shall 



REPLY TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 165 

never call a woman f a pretty little witch ' again as 
long as we live. 

"We like Boston. We were born there — and 
perhaps it is just as well not to mention that we 
are heartily ashamed of the fact. The Bostonians 
are very well in their way. Their hotels are 
bad. Their pumpkin pies are delicious. Their 
poetry is not so good. Their common is no com- 
mon thing — and the duck-pond might answer — 
if its answer could he heard, for the frogs. But 
with all these good qualities, the Bostonians have 
no soul. They have always evinced toward us, 
individually, the basest ingratitude for the ser- 
vices we rendered them in enlightening them 
about the originality of Mr. Longfellow. 

"When we accepted, therefore, an invitation 
to f deliver ' a poem in Boston, we accepted it 
simply and solely because we had a curiosity to 
know how it felt to be publicly hissed — and be- 
cause we wished to see what effect we could 
produce by a neat little imfromftu speech in re- 
ply. Perhaps, however, we overrated our own 
importance, or the Bostonian want of common 
civility, which is not quite so manifest as one or 
two of their editors would wish the public to 



1 66 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

believe. We assure Major Noah that he. is 
wrong. The Bostonians are well-bred, as very 
dull persons generally are. Still, with their vile 
ingratitude staring us in the eyes, it could scarce- 
ly be supposed that we would put ourselves to the 
trouble of composing for the Bostonians anything 
in the shape of an original poem. We did not. 
We had a poem of about five hundred lines, ly- 
ing by us — one quite as good as new — one, at 
all events, that we considered would answer suf- 
ficiently well for an audience of Transcendental- 
ists. That we gave them ; it was the best that 
we had for the price, and it did answer re- 
markably well. Its name was not f The Messen- 
ger Star.' Who but Miss Walter would ever 
think of so delicious a little bit of invention as 
that? We had no name for it at all. The poem 
is what is occasionally called a f juvenile' poem, 
but the fact is, it is an} T thing but juvenile now, for 
we wrote it, printed it, and published it, in book 
form, before we had completed our tenth year. 
We read it verbatim, from a copy now in our 
possession, and which we shall be happy to show T 
at any moment to any of our inquisitive friends. 
We do not, ourselves, think the poem a remark- 



REPLT TO BOSTON CRITICISMS. 167 

ably good one ; it is not sufficiently transcenden- 
tal. Still it did well enough for the Boston 
audience, who evinced characteristic discrimi- 
nation in understanding, and especially applaud- 
ing all those knotty passages which we ourselves 
have not yet been able to understand. 

"As regards the anger of 'The Boston Times,' 
and one or two other absurdities — as regards, 
we say, the wrath of Achilles — we incurred it, 
or rather its manifestation, by letting some of 
our cat out of the bag a few hours sooner than 
we had intended. Over a bottle of champagne, 
that night, we confessed to Messrs. Cushing, 
Whipple, Hudson, Fields, and a few other na- 
tives, who swear not altogether by the frog-pond 
— we confessed, we say, the soft impeachment 
of the hoax. Et hinc illce irce. We should 
have waited a couple of days." 

"It is scarcely necessary to suggest," writes 
Griswold, "that this must have been written be- 
fore he had quite recovered from the long intoxi- 
cation which maddened him at the time to which 
it refers ; that he was not born in Boston ; that 
the poem was not published in his tenth year, 
and that the f hoax' was all an after-thought." 



1 68 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

That Poe never composed, or was capable of 
composing, any kind of writing while under the 
influence of drink, is well known; and that he 
had his wits about him in this matter, is suffi- 
ciently evident from his general adherence, in 
his reply, to the authenticated facts of the case. 

That he was born in Boston, is now universally 
known to be true, and Griswold could much more 
readily have substantiated this fact than we, who, 
like many others, misled by the reckless misstate- 
ments of Dr. Griswold, have been obliged, after 
a lapse of a quarter of a century, to seek for the 
true facts, which time has not infrequently oblit- 
erated. That the hoax was not an after-thought, 
we have Mr. E. P. Whipple's testimony to attest ; 
his account corresponding, as related to us, pre- 
cisely to that of the poet in his ironical reply 
to his critics. As to his age when the poem was 
written, as it has been proved that his other state- 
ments were truthful, he should have the benefit of 
the doubt. There was no plea of illness, as 
Griswold alleges, as an excuse for delivering the 
juvenile. It was simply a mischievous conceit 
upon the part of the poet, which he justified to 
himself by the contempt in which he held the 



SOCIAL LIFE OF THE POET. 



169 



Boston public, or, as he termed them, the Frog- 
pondians, of that period. 

Some agreeable reminiscences of the poet's 
social life at this period, as well as faithful im- 
pressions of the character of his intellect, have 
been given by contemporaries of Poe, whose 
palmiest days were, undoubtedly, passed in the 
select literary circles of the metropolis which cen- 
tred about the home of the prominent authoress 
•to whom we have previously alluded. 

The author of the monograph, "Poe and his 
Critics," writes, quoting from the published com- 
ments of a woman of fine genius, prominently 
known in the social circle in which Poe moved : 
" It was in the brilliant circles that assembled in 
the winter of 1845-6 at the houses of Dr. Dewey, 
Miss Anna C. Lynch, Mr. Lawson and others, 
that we first met Edgar Poe. His manners were, 
at these reunions, refined and pleasing, and his 
style and scope of conversation that of a gentle- 
man and scholar. Whatever may have been his 
previous career, there was nothing in his appear- 
ance or manner to indicate his excesses. He de- 
lighted in the society of superior women, and had 
an exquisite perception of all graces of manner 



170 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



and shades of expression. He was an admiring 
listener and an unobtrusive observer. 

"We all recollect the interest felt, at the time, 
in anything emanating from his pen ; the relief 
it was from the dulness of ordinary writers ; the 
certainty of something fresh and suggestive. 

" His critiques were read with avidity ; not that 
he convinced the judgment, but that people felt 
their ability and their courage. Right or wrong, 
he was terribly in earnest." Mrs. Whitman adds, 
"Like De Quincey, he never suffosed anything 
— he always knew. 

" The peculiar character of his intellect seemed 
without a prototype in literature. He had more 
than De Quincey's power of analysis, with a con- 
structive nicety and completeness of which the 
great English essayist has given no indication." 

In evidence of the habitual courtesy and good- 
nature noticeable to all who knew him in domes- 
tic and social life, the same writer narrates an 
incident that occurred at one of the soirees to 
which we have alluded : "A lady noted for her 
great lingual attainments, wishing to apply a 
wholesome check to the vanity of a young au- 
thor, proposed inviting him to translate for the 



CON VERS A TIONAL PO WERS. 



171 






company a difficult passage in Greek, of which 
language she knew him to be profoundly igno- 
rant, although given to rather pretentious display 
of Greek quotations in his published writings. 

"Poe's earnest and persistent remonstrance 
against this piece of mechancete , alone averted 
the embarrassing test." 

As a conversationist, the poet possessed a fas- 
cination and individuality that compelled the ad- 
miration of all who came within its spell. 

Even Dr. Griswold is forced to join hands with 
the poet's friends in speaking of Poe's matchless 
gift, and admits that his conversation was at times 
almost " supra-mortal in its eloquence ;" that " his 
large and variably expressive eyes looked repose, 
or shot fiery tumult into theirs who listened, 
while his own face glowed, or was changeless in 
pallor, as his imagination quickened his blood or 
drew it back, frozen, to his heart." 

We cannot, from a reading of this photo- 
graphic drawing of one of the poet's most char- 
acteristic traits, refrain from thinking that Gris- 
wold really understood Poe more truly than he 
wrote of him, for, as Mrs. Whitman very aptly 
says in this connection, "These traits are not the 



172 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

possible accompaniments of attributes which Dr. 
Griswold has elsewhere ascribed to him." 

Of her own impressions of the poet's gift of 
speech she writes, "The unmatched charm of 
his conversation consisted in its genuineness. As 
a conversationist we do not remember his equal. 
We have heard the veteran Landor, called by 
high authority the best talker in England, discuss 
with scathing sarcasm the popular writers of 
the day, convey his political animosities by fierce 
invectives on 'the pretentious coxcomb Albert* 
and the cunning knave Napoleon,' or describe 
in words of strange depth and tenderness the 
peerless charm of goodness and the naive social 
graces in the beautiful mistress of Gore house, 
1 the most gorgeous Lady Blessington.' 

" We riave heard the Howadji talk of the gar- 
dens of Damascus till the air seemed purpled and 
perfumed with its roses. 

"We have listened to trenchant and vivid talk 
of the autocrat, to the brilliant and exhaustless 
colloquial resources of John Neal and Margaret 
Fuller. 



1 The late Prince Consort of Queen Victoria. 



CONVERSATIONAL POWERS. 173 

"We have heard the racy talk of Orestes 
Brownson, in the old days of his freedom and 
power, have listened to the serene wisdom of 
Alcott, and treasured up memorable sentences 
from the golden lips of Emerson. 

w Unlike the conversational power evinced by 
any of these, was the earnest, opulent, unpre- 
meditated speech of Edgar Poe. Like his 
writings, it presented a combination of qualities 
rarely met with in the same person ; a cool, de- 
cisive judgment, a wholly unconventional cour- 
tesy and sincere grace of manner, and an im- 
perious enthusiasm which brought all hearers 
within the circle of its influence." 

J. M. Daniel, Esq., United States Minister at 
Turin,* who knew Poe well at this time, says, 
"His conversation was the very best we have 
'ever listened to. We have never heard any 
other so suggestive of thought, or any from which 
one gained so much. On literary subjects it was 
the essence of correct and profound criticism di- 
vested of all formal pedantries and introductory 
ideas, the kernel clear of the shell. He was not 



i860. 



1^4 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

a brilliant talker in the common after-dinner 
sense of the word ; he was not a maker of fine 
points or a frequent sayer of funny things. What 
he said was prompted entirely by the moment, and 
seemed uttered for the pleasure of uttering it. 

"In his animated moods he talked with an ab- 
stracted earnestness, as if he were dictating to an 
amanuensis ; and if he spoke of individuals, his 
ideas ran upon their moral and intellectual quali- 
ties, rather than upon the idiosyncracies of their 
active visible phenomena, or the peculiarities of 
their manner." 

Mrs. Osgood also attests to the matchless charm 
of his conversation. "But it was in his conver- 
sations and his letters," she writes, " far more 
than in his published poetry and prose writings, 
that the genius of Poe was most gloriously re- 
vealed. His letters were divinely beautiful, and 
for hours I have listened to him, entranced by 
strains of such pure and almost celestial eloquence 
as I have never read or heard elsewhere." 

Of his home life, the same writer pens the fol- 
lowing exquisite picture : — 

"It was in his own simple, yet poetical, home, 
that to me the character of Edgar Poe appeared 



MRS. OSGOOD'S REMINISCENCES. 175 

in its most beautiful light. Playful, affectionate, 
witty, alternately docile and wayward as a petted 
child, for his young, gentle and idolized wife, 
and for all who came, he had, even in the midst 
of his most harassing literary duties, a kind word, 
a pleasant smile, a graceful and courteous atten- 
tion. At his desk, beneath the romantic picture 
of his loved and lost Lenore, he would ^sit, hour 
after hour, patient, assiduous and uncomplaining, 
tracing, in an exquisitely clear chirography, and 
with almost superhuman swiftness, the lightning 
thoughts — the ' rare and radiant ' fancies as they 
flashed through his wonderful and ever wakeful 
brain. I recollect one morning toward the close 
of his residence in this city, when he seemed un- 
usually gay and light-hearted. Virginia, his 
sweet wife, had written me a pressing invitation 
to come to them ; and I, who never could resist 
her affectionate summons, and who enjoyed his 
society far more in his own home than elsewhere, 
hastened to Amity Street. I found him just com- 
pleting his series of papers entitled f The Literati 
of New York.' 'See,' said he, displaying, in 
laughing triumph, several little rolls of narrow 
paper (he always wrote thus for the press), f I 



: 7 6 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



am going to show you, by the difference of length 
in these, the different degrees of estimation in 
which I hold all you literary people. In each of 
these, one of you is rolled up and fully discussed. 
Come, Virginia, help me ! ' And one by one they 
unfolded them. At last they came to one which 
seemed interminable. Virginia laughingly ran 
to one corner of the room with one end, and her 
husband to the opposite with the other. 'And 
whose lengthened sweetness long drawn out is 
that? ' said I. ' Hear her ! ' he cried, 'just as if 
her little vain heart didn't tell her it's herself! ' 

" During that year," Mrs. Osgood adds, in the 
same paper, " while travelling for my health, I 
maintained a correspondence with Mr. Poe, in 
accordance with the earnest entreaties of his wife, 
who imagined that my influence over him had a 
restraining and beneficial effect. It had, as far 
as this, — that having solemnly promised me to 
give up the use of stimulants, he so firmly re- 
spected his promise and me, as never once, dur- 
ing our whole acquaintance, to appear in my 
presence when in the slightest degree affected by 
them. Of the charming love and confidence 
that existed between his wife and himself, always 



THE LIT ERA TI PAPER S. 177 

delightfully apparent to me, in spite of the many 
little poetical episodes in which the impassioned 
romance of his temperament impelled him to in- 
dulge, I cannot speak too earnestly, too warmly." 

"The Broadway Journal " proved too heavy a 
load for the poet's business inexperience to carry, 
and he was obliged to retire from it, finally, on the 
third of January, 1846. 

"The Literati of New York," mentioned by 
Mrs. Osgood, as well as some of the poet's tales 
and sketches, appeared in Godey's "Lady's 
Book." 

These papers made a tremendous local sensa- 
tion, both in the metropolis and in Philadelphia. 
Extra editions of the magazine were required to 
meet the extraordinary demands ; the essays were 
copied far and near, and avalanches of venge- 
ful threats were showered upon the proprietors. 
In answer to these, Mr. Godey wrote, "We are 
not to be intimidated by a threat of loss of friends, 
or turned from our purpose by honeyed words. 
.... Almost every paper that we exchange 
with has praised our new enterprise and spoken 
in high terms of Mr. Poe's opinion." 

Out of the publication of these papers grew a 



1 78 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

fierce discussion between the poet and Thomas 
Dunn English, who, like most writers under the 
fire of remorseless criticism, lost his temper, and 
published, in reply to Poe's original criticism in 
the "Literati" series, a malignant and menda- 
cious retort, which was copied in "The Mirror," 
and met by the poet with a suit for damages, in 
which he recovered several hundred dollars, law 
being, at least in this instance, kinder to him than 
literature was wont to be. 

Griswold indulges in a ground and lofty tumble 
on this subject in his memoir. That is to say, he 
deliberately drags the true statement of the affair 
in the mire of falsehood, and soars to an altitude 
of lying that is venturesome even for him. 

Griswold states, after mentioning the fact of 
the publication of English's card, that Poe's arti- 
cle was " entirely false in what purported to be 
its facts ;" prefixing this statement with another to 
the effect that the publication of the "Literati" 
led to a disgraceful quarrel, and this to a prema- 
ture conclusion of the papers. The facts are, as 
may be readily ascertained by referring to the 
files of "The Lady's Book," that Poe's critique 
of English, which was the second in the "Liter- 



A STARTLING FABRICATION. 179 

ati" series, appeared in the June number, and, 
far from coming to "a premature conclusion," 
they ran on, as had been intended, through the 
following October, while Mr. Godey, with whom 
we are led to suppose by Griswold, Poe quar- 
relled, owing to Mr. Godey 's declination of his 
personal reply to Dunn English, accepted all 
regular contributions from the poet, whenever he 
sent them, and wrote in defence of him in a con- 
temporary magazine of that time. 

Those who ascribe Griswold's misstatements 
regarding Poe simply to his proclivity for lying, 
should compare the original " Literati" papers, as 
they appeared in " Godey 's," with those in the 
published edition edited by Griswold. They will 
then find that a startling discrepancy exists in the 
edited "English" critique, and that the virulent 
personalities therein appearing, with which Poe 
is saddled by Griswold, are entirely absent from 
the original review as it appeared in " Godey 's." 

These papers formed the last important critical 
work performed by Poe during his residence in 
the metropolis. 9 . 



CHAPTER VII. 

LAST YEARS. 
1846 — 1849. 

Removal to Fordham — Reminiscences of Fordham and its 
Inmates by a Contemporary of the Poet — Sickness and 
Poverty — A Public Appeal — Griswold's Malevolent Ani- 
mus — Sympathy of Willis — Reply of the Poet — Death of 
Virginia — Fordham in 1847 — " Ulalume " — The Poet's 
Psychal Atmosphere — Lecture on "The Universe" — Letter 
to Willis — " Eureka " — Theory of Deity — Visit to Lowell 

— "The Bells"— Alteration from the Original MSS.— 
Some Suggestive Recollections — First Meeting with Mrs. 
Whitman — An Important Letter — An Ideal Home — Break- 
ing of the Engagement — Griswold's Gross Misrepresenta- 
tion — Reply of W. J. Pabodie — Letter from Mrs. Whitman 

— The Poet Leaves Fordham— A Last Effort to Establish 
"The Stylus" — At Richmond Again — Return to the 
" Literary Messenger" — Anecdote of Annabel Lee, by J. 
P. Thompson — Last Visit to Philadelphia — Engagement 
with Mrs. Shelton — The Unfortunate Trip North— The 
Misfortunes in Baltimore — Death at Baltimore — A Retro- 
spective Glance. 

N the late spring of 1846, Poe removed 
to the picturesque locality of Fordham 
in Westchester County, New York. 
The excitement incident to a residence in the 
metropolis had proved injurious to the rapidly 
failing strength of his stricken wife, and it was 
thought that the pure, free air of the country 
(180) 




REMINISCENCES OF FORDHAM. 181 

home would prove beneficial to the delicate 
Virginia. 

Some charming descriptions of the poet's home 
at Fordham have been given by his contempo- 
raries. 

One of these, writing of his first visit there, 
says of the place and its inmates, — 

"We found him and his wife and his wife's 
mother, who was his aunt, living in a little cot- 
tage at the top of a hill. 

"There was an acre or two of greensward 
fenced in about the house, as smooth as velvet 
and as clean as the best kept carpet. There 
were some grand old cherry trees in the yard, 
that threw a massive shade around them. 

" Poe had somehow caught a full-grown bob- 
olink. He had put him in a cage, which he 
had hung on a nail driven into the trunk of a 
cherry tree. The poor bird was as unfit to live 
in a cage as his captor was to live in the world. 
He was as restless as his jailer, and sprang con- 
tinually, in a fierce, frightened way, from one side 
of the cage to the other. I pitied him ; but Poe 
was bent on training him. There he stood, with 
his arms crossed, before the tormented bird, his 



lS2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

sublime trust in attaining the impossible, appar 
ent in his whole self. So handsome, so impassive 
in his wonderful intellectual beauty, so proud and 
reserved, and yet so confidentially communica- 
tive, so entirely a gentleman, upon all occasions 
that I ever saw him, so tasteful, so good a talker, 
was Poe, that he impressed himself and his wish- 
es, almost without words, upon those with whom 
he spoke. 

" On this occasion I was introduced to the young 
wife of the poet, and to the mother, then more 
than sixty years of age. She was a tall, digni- 
fied old lady, with a most lady-like manner, and 
her black dress, old and much worn, looked really 
elegant on her. She seemed hale and strong, 
and appeared to be a sort of universal Providence 
for her strange children. 

"Mrs. Poe looked very young ; she had large 
black eyes and a pearly whiteness of complexion 
which was a perfect pallor. Her pale face, her 
brilliant eyes and her raven hair gave her an un- 
earthly look. 

" One felt that she was almost a dissolved spirit ; 
and when she coughed, it was made certain that 
she was rapidly passing away. 




MARIA CLEMM. 
(From daguerreotype taken in Lowell in 1849.) 



REMINISCENCES OF FORD HAM. i$<* 

"The cottage had an air of taste and gentility 
that must have been lent to it by the presence of 
its inmates. 

" So neat, so poor, so unfurnished, and yet so 
charming a dwelling I never saw. The sitting- 
room was laid with check matting ; four chairs, 
a light-stand and a hanging book-shelf completed 
its furniture. 

" There were pretty presentation copies of books 
on the little shelves, and the Brownings had a 
post of honor on the stand. With quiet exulta- 
tion Poe drew from his side-pocket a letter that he 
had recently received from Elizabeth Barrett 
Browning. He read it to us. It was very flat- 
tering. . . . 

" He was at this time greatly depressed. Their 
extreme poverty, the sickness of his wife, and his 
own inability to write, sufficiently accounted for 
this. We. strolled away into the woods, and had 
a very cheerful time, till some one proposed a 
game at leaping ; I think it must have been Poe, 
as he was expert in the exercise. Two or three 
gentlemen agreed to leap with him, and though 
one of them was tall, and had been a hunter in 
tintes past, Poe still distanced them all. But, 



t84 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

In contrast to this specimen of the poet's rugged 
manliness, is the statement of a near friend of the 
poet, who writes that Poe was so effeminately 
sensitive as to be seriously disturbed by the rustle 
of a silk dress, and would plead with his lady 
friends to wear stuff that would hang in graceful 
drapery and make no noise. 

Of a later visit, the author from whom we 
have previously quoted writes : " The autumn 
came, and Mrs. Poe sank rapidly in consump- 
tion, and I saw her in her bed-chamber. The 
weather was cold, and the sick lady had the 
dreadful chills that accompany the hectic fever 
of consumption. 

"She lay on the straw bed, wrapped in her hus- 
band's great coat, with a large tortoise-shell cat 
in her bosom. The wonderful cat seemed con- 
scious of her great usefulness. The coat and the 
cat were the sufferer's only means of warmth, ex- 
cept as her husband held her hands and her 
mother her feet. 

"Mrs. Clemm was passionately fond of her 
daughter, and her distress on account of her ill- 
ness and poverty and misery was dreadful to see. 

" As soon as I was made aware of these pain- 



DISTRESS OF POE'S FAMILT. 185 

ful facts, I came to New York and enlisted the 
sympathies and services of a lady whose heart 
and hand were ever open to the poor and the 
miserable. 

"The lady headed a subscription, and carried 
them sixty dollars the next week. From the day 
this kind lady * first saw the suffering family of 
the poet she watched over them as a mother. 

"She saw them often, and ministered to the 
comfort of the dying' and the living. Poe," 
this writer adds, in concluding his impressions 
and reminiscences, "has been called a bad man. 
He was his own enemy, it is true, but he was a 
gentleman and a scholar. If the scribblers who 
have snapped like curs at his remains had seen 
him, as his friends saw him, in his dire necessity 
and his great temptation, they would have been 
worse than they deem him, to have written as 
they have concerning a man of whom. they really 
knew next to nothing." 

Griswold, with ferocious cruelty, states that 
"his habits of frequent intoxication, and his inat- 
tention to the means of support, had reduced him 



* Mrs. Estelle Lewis. 



l86 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

to much more than common destitution ;" when he 
must have known, or could have readily ascer- 
tained from Mrs. Clemm, that his health had been 
broken by his incessant watching with his sick 
wife, and he had been unable to get opportunity 
to make new literary engagements. 

The writer from whose reminiscences we have 
quoted, took the well-meant liberty of making 
Poe's necessities public without, of course, the 
poet's knowledge. This mistaken kindness called 
forth many sympathetic words, however, which 
showed, Griswold to the contrary, that Poe was 
not without true friends. 

The following paragraph announcing Poe's 
distress appeared originally in " The New York 
Express : " — 

" We regret to learn that Edgar A. Poe and his 
wife are both dangerously ill with the consump- 
tion, and that the hand of misfortune lies heavy 
upon their temporal affairs. We are sorry to 
mention the fact that they are so far reduced as 
to be barely able to obtain the necessaries of life. 
This is indeed a hard lot, and we hope that the 
friends and admirers of Mr. Poe will come prompt- 
ly to his assistance in his bitterest hour of need." 



WILLIS' NOBLE PROJECT. ^7 

Mr. Willis, anticipating Mr. Edwin Forrest's 
plan of a home for disabled members of the dra- 
matic profession, wrote an article favoring the 
establishment of a home or hospital where edu- 
cated persons of reduced circumstances might be 
received and cared for. In it, he says, apropos 
of Poe's calamities : 

n The feeling we have long entertained on this 
subject has been freshened by a recent paragraph 
in w The Express," announcing that Mr. Edgar A. 
Poe and his wife were both dangerously ill, and 
suffering for want of the common necessaries of 
life. Here is one of the finest scholars, one of 
the most original men of genius, and one of the 
most industrious of the literary profession of our 
country, whose temporary suspension of labor, 
from bodily illness, drops him immediately to a 
level with the common objects of public charity. 
There was no intermediate stopping-place — no 
respectful shelter where, with the delicacy due to 
genius and culture, he might secure aid, unad- 
vertised, till, with returning health, he Could re- 
sume his labors and his unmortified sense of in- 
dependence. He must either apply to individual 
friends — (a resource to which death is sometimes 



1 88 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

almost preferable) — or suffer down to the level 
where Charity receives claimants, but where 
Rags and Humiliation are the only recognized 
Ushers to her presence. Is this right? Should 
there not be, in all highly civilized communities, 
an Institution designed expressly for educated 
and refined objects of charity — a hospital, a re- 
treat, a home of seclusion and comfort, the suffi- 
cient claims to which would be such susceptibili- 
ties as are violated by the above-mentioned appeal 
in a daily newspaper?" 

From a letter to Willis, which we quote, the 
effect produced upon the proud, sensitive nature 
of the poet by the wholesale publication of his 
distress will be evident : 

My dear Willis, — 

The paragraph which has been put in circulation respect- 
ing my wife's illness, my own, my poverty, etc., is now lying 
before me, together with the beautiful lines by Mrs. Locke, 

and those by Mrs. -, to which the paragraph has given 

rise, as well as 3-our kind and manly comments in "The Home 
Journal." The motive of the paragraph I leave to the con- 
science of him or her who wrote it or suggested it. Since the 
thing is done, however, and since the concerns of my family 
are thus pitilessly thrust before the public, I perceive no mode 
of escape from a public statement of what is true and what is 
erroneous in the report alluded to. That my wife is ill, then, 



WILLIS' LETTER. 189 

is true ; and you may imagine with what feelings I add that 
this illness, hopeless from the first, has been heightened and 
precipitated by her reception, at two different periods, of 
anonymous letters — one enclosing the paragraph now in 

question, the other those published calumnies of Messrs. 

for which I yet hope to find redress in a court of justice. 

Of the facts that I myself have been long and dangerously 
ill, and that my illness has been a well understood thing 
among my brethren of the press, the best evidence is afforded 
by the innumerable paragraphs of personal and of literary 
abuse with which I have been latterly assailed. This matter, 
however, will remedy itself. At the very first blush of my 
new prosperity, the gentlemen who toadied me in the old will 
recollect themselves and toady me again. That I am without 
friends is a gross calumny, which I am sure you never could 
have believed, and which a thousand noble-hearted men would 
have good right never to forgive for permitting to pass unnoticed 
and undenied. I do not think, my dear Willis, that there is 
any need of my saying more. I am getting better, and may 
add, if it be any comfort to my enemies, that I have little 
fear of getting worse. The truth is, I have a great deal to 
do ; and I have made up my mind not to die till it is done. 
Sincerely yours, 

December 30, 1846. • Edgar A. Poe. 

This letter, Griswold charges, was written for 
effect. Poe, he declares, had not been ill a great 
while, nor dangerously ill at all; that there was 
no literary or personal abuse of him in. the jour- 
nals, and that his friends in turn had been applied 



190 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



to for money until their patience was nearly ex- 
hausted. It is needless to say that these state- 
ments are, like others by the writer, parts of the 
patchwork of falsehood with which the narrative 
facts of his memoir of the poet are covered. 
That malicious slanders of Poe were published, 
the fact of his recover}^ of heavy damages from 
"The Mirror" at a subsequent time, sufficiently 
proves ; and that he was ill, we have Willis' own 
statement, which no one would presume to gain- 
say, as proof. 

Within a month after the writing of the letter 
to Willis, Poe's child- wife died. Although not 
now a child, in appearance she was actually girl- 
ish, and a portrait which we have seen, taken 
after death, while robed for the grave, depicts her 
face as one of singular sweetness and purity. 
Although her disease was a lingering one, the 
face is not wasted nor marked by any lines of 
suffering. It seems the face of a child sweetly 
sleeping ; and, after looking upon it, one does not 
wonder at the devoted affection which its living 
presence inspired. 

No other picture of Virginia is known to be in 
existence ; and it is to be hoped that at some fu- 



FOB'S DESOLATION. 



191 



ture day the owner of the picture, a sister of the 
deceased, will waive her present scruples to hav- 
ing the portrait copied, for there is nothing ghast- 
ly or deathlike about it. Its atmosphere is that 
of peace, not of grim death. 

Deprived of the companionship and sympathy 
of his child-wife, the poet suffered what was to 
him the exquisite agony of utter loneliness. 

Night after night he would arise from his sleep- 
less pillow, and, dressing himself, wander to the 
grave of his lost one, and throwing himself down 
upon the cold ground, weep bitterly for hours at 
a time. 

The same haunting dread which we have ven- 
tured to ascribe to him at the time of his writing 
"The Raven," possessed him now, and to such a 
degree that he found it impossible to sleep with- 
out the presence of some friend by his bedside 
when he sought slumber. Mrs. Clemm, his ever- 
devoted friend and comforter, more frequently 
fulfilled the office of watcher. The poet, after 
retiring, would summon her, and while she 
stroked his broad brow he would indulge his wild 
flights of fancy to the Aidenn of his dreams. 
He never spoke nor moved in these moments, 



192 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



unless the hand was withdrawn from his fore- 
head ; then he would say, with childish naivete, 
"No, no, not yet!" — while he lay with half- 
closed eyes. 

The mother, or friend, would stay by him un- 
til he was fairly asleep, then gently leave him. 
He rarely awoke from troubled sleep when his 
slumbers were thus preluded as he desired ; but 
if, through accident or necessity, he was obliged 
to seek sleep with no sweet soothings, save the 
weird conjurings of his own strange fancies, he 
was invariably distraught and wretchedly un- 
comfortable. 

He continued to reside at Fordham, and the 
memory of his cherished mate was sacredly pre- 
served in his devoted care of the quaint and 
pretty little villa with its surroundings of fruit 
trees and flower beds, and its family of home pets, 
which to him were, from their associations with 
his Virginia, as dear as if they had been his 
children. 

Poe had many visitors during his isolated resi- 
dence at this charming place. An English 
writer who visited Fordham in the early autumn 
of 1847, thus described it to Mrs. Whitman : — 



AT FORDHAM IN 1847. 193 

" It was at the time bordered by a flower gar- 
den, whose clumps of rare dahlias and brilliant 
beds of fall flowers showed, in the careful culture 
bestowed upon them, the fine floral taste of the 
inmates." • 

An American writer who visted the cottage 
during the summer of the same year, described it 
as " half-buried in fruit trees, and as having a 
thick grove of pines in its immediate neighbor- 
hood. Round an old cherry tree, near the door, 
was a broad bank of greenest turf. The neigh- 
boring .beds of mignonette and heliotrope, and 
the pleasant shade above, made this 'a favorite 
seat." " Rising at four o'clock in the morning," 
writes Mrs. Whitman, "for a walk to the mag- 
nificent Aqueduct bridge over Harlem River, 
our informant found the poet, with his mother, 
standing on the turf beneath the cherry tree, 
eagerly watching the movements of two beauti- 
ful birds that seemed contemplating a settlement 
in its branches. He had some rare tropical birds 
in cages, which he cherished and petted with as- 
siduous care. Our English friend described him 
as giving to his birds and his flowers a delighted 
attention that seemed quite inconsistent with the 



194 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

gloomy and grotesque character of his writings. 
A favorite cat, too, enjoyed his friendly patron- 
age, and often when he was' engaged in compo- 
sition, it seated itself on his shoulder, purring in 
complacent approval of the work proceeding un- 
der its supervision. 

"During Mr. Poe's residence at Fordham, -a 
walk to High Bridge was one of his favorite and 
habitual recreations. The water of the aqueduct 
is conveyed across the river on a range of lofty 
granite arches which rise to the height of a hun- 
dred and forty-five feet above high-water level. 
On the top a turfed and grassy road, used only 
by foot passengers, and flanked on either side by 
a low parapet of granite, makes one of the finest 
promenades imaginable. The winding river and 
the high rocky shores at the western extremity of 
the bridge are seen to great advantage from this 
lofty avenue. In the last melancholy years of 
his life ^ f the lonesome latter years' — Poe was 
accustomed to walk there at all times of the day 
and night, often pacing the then solitary pathway 
for hours without meeting a human being. A 
little to the east of the cottage rises a ledge of 
rocky ground, partly covered with pines and 



ULALUME. 



*95 



cedars, commanding a fine view of the surround- 
ing country and of the picturesque college of St. 
John's, which had, atthattime, inks neighborhood 
an avenue of venerable old trees. This rocky 
ledge was also one of the poet's favorite resorts. 
Here, through long summer days and through 
solitary star-lit nights, he loved to sit, dreaming 
his gorgeous waking dreams, or pondering the 
deep problems of c The Universe,' that grand 
f prose poem' to which he devoted the last and 
maturest energies of his wonderful intellect." 

The proximity of the railroad, and the great in- 
crease of population in the village, have since 
wrought great changes, and the place would be 
scarcely recognizable from this description now. 

It was during the period of solitariness at Ford- 
ham thatPoe wrote the mystic "Ulalume ;" and, 
taking into consideration the distraught condition 
of the poet at this time, it is not singular that, 
when subjected to Mrs. Whitman's clear-cut an- 
alysis, it should be found to be " the most original 
and weirdly suggestive of all his poems." " It 
resembles at first sight," says this writer, "some 
of Turner's landscapes, being apparently c with- 
out form and void, and having darkness on the 



196 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

face of it.' It is, nevertheless, in its basis, al 
though not in the precise correspondence of time, 
simply historical." 

Such was the poet's lonely midnight walk; 
such, amid the desolate memories and sceneries 
of the hour, was the new-born hope enkindled 
within his heart at sight of the morning star — 

" Astarte's bediamonded crescent — 

coming up as the beautiful harbinger of love and 
happiness yet awaiting him in the untried future ; 
and such the sudden transition of feeling, the 
boding dread, that supervened on discovering 
that which at first had been unnoted, that it shone, 
as if in mockery or in warning, directly over the 
sepulchre of the lost "Ulalume." 

A writer in "The London Critic" says, quoting 
the opening lines of "Ulalume," — 

"These to many will appear only words; but 
what wondrous words ! What a spell they wield ! 
What a weird unity is in them ! The instant 
they are uttered, a misty picture, with a tarn, dark 
as a murderer's eye, below; and the thin yellow 
leaves of October fluttering above, exponents of 



LECTURE ON THE UNIVERSE. 197 

a misery which scorns the name of sorrow, is 
hung up in the chambers of your soul forever." 

Of the psychal atmosphere of Poe when satu- 
rated with the supernaturally imaginative condi- 
tion, under the spell of which "Ulalume," "The 
Raven " and " Eureka " were inspired, the author 
of "Poe and his Critics" writes, "Nothing so sol- 
itary, nothing so hopeless, nothing so desolate, 
as his spirit in its darker moods, has been in- 
stanced in the literary history of the nineteenth 
century." 

The poet's extraordinary conceptions of the 
future were first revealed in the form of a lecture 
suggestively entitled, "The Universe," delivered 
before the Society Library of New York city. 
This was the first of a series of lectures from 
the proceeds of which Poe expected to realize 
his long-cherished idea of a monthly magazine 
of his own, as the following letter to Willis will 
show : — 

Fordham, January 22, 1848. 
My Dear Mr. Willis, — 

I am about to make an effort at re-establishing myself in 
the literary world, and feel that I may depend upon your aid. 

My general aim is to start a magazine, to be called "The 
Stylus ;" but it would be useless to me, even when estab- 



Iq8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

lished, if not entirely out of the control of a publisher. I 
mean, therefore, to get up-a journal which shall be my own 
at all points. With this end in view, I must get a list of at 
least five hundred subscribers to begin with, nearly two hun- 
dred I have already. I propose, however, to go South and 
West, among my personal and literary friends — old college 
and West Point acquaintances — and see what I can do. In 
order to get the means of taking the first step, I propose to 
lecture at the Society Library oft Thursday, the 3d of Febru- 
ary ; and that there may be no cause of squabbling, my sub- 
ject shall not be literary at "all. I have chosen a broad text, 
" The Universe." 

Having thus given you the facts of the case, I leave all the 
rest to the suggestions of your own tact and generosity. 
Gratefully, most gratefully, your friend always, 

Edgar A. Poe. 

The subject was sufficiently ponderous to forbid 
a large attendance, and the sanguine enthusiast 
was obliged to possess his soul with patience, 
until opportunity offered for realizing upon his 
effort from the publication of the completed work, 
which was published not long after by Mr. G. P. 
Putnam. The preliminary business negotiation 
incident to its publication has been graphically 
described by Mr. Putnam. It is worth recalling 
in this place. 

"I was in his office in Broadway," he states, 
"when a gentleman entered, and with a some- 



PUBLICATION OF EUREKA. 



J 99. 



what nervous and excited manner claimed atten- 
tion on a subject which he said was of the highest 
importance. Seated at my desk, and looking at 
me a full minute with his ' glittering eye,' he at 
length said, 'I am Mr, Poe.' I was 'all ear,' of 
course, and sincerely interested. It was the au- 
thor of /The Raven/ and of 'The Gold Bug!' 
f I hardly know,' said the 'poet, after a pause, 
'how to begin what I have to say. It is a mattet 
of profound importance. ' After another pause, 
the poet seeming to be in a tremor of excitement, 
he at length went on to say that the publication 
he had to propose was of momentous interest. 
Newton's discovery of gravitation was a mere 
incident compared with the discoveries revealed 
in this book. It would at once command such 
universal and intense interest that the publisher 
might give up all other enterprises, and make 
this one book the business of his lifetime. An 
edition of fifty thousand copies might be suffi- 
cient to begin with ; but it would be a small 
beginning. No other scientific event in the his- 
tory of the world approached in importance the 
original developments of this book. All this and 
more, not in irony or in jest, but in intense 



200 LIE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

earnest— for he held me with his eye like the 
Ancient Mariner. I was really impressed, but 
not overcome. Promising a decision on Monday 
(it was late Saturday p.m.), the poet had to rest 
so long in uncertainty upon the extent of the edi- 
tion — partly reconciled, by a small loan, mean- 
while. We did venture, not upon fifty thousand, 
but five hundred." 

Although the poet's works are filled, perhaps 
unconsciously, with a deep sense of the power 
and majesty of Deity, his theory, as expressed 
in "Eureka," which he regarded as the crowning 
work of his life, of the universal diffusion of 
Deityin and through all things, has been regard- 
ed as identical with the Brahminical faith as ex- 
pressed in the "Bagvat Gita." But the closer 
criticism of Mrs. Whitman reveals that in the 
vast reaches of his thought he arrived at a form 
of unbelief that assumes that the central, creative 
soul is alternately, not diffused only, but merged 
and lost in the universe, and the universe in it. 

"No thinking man lives," he says, "who, at 
some luminous point of his life, has not felt him- 
self lost amid the surges of futile efforts at un- 
derstanding or believing that anything exists 



EUREKA. 201 

greater than his own soul. The intense, over- 
whelming dissatisfaction and rebellion at the 
thought, together with the omniprevalent aspira- 
tions at perfection, are but the spiritual, coincident 
with the material, struggle towards the original 
unity. The material and spiritual God now ex- 
ists solely in the diffused matter and spirit of the 
universe ; and the regathering of the diffused mat- 
ter and spirit will be but the re constitution of the 
purely spiritual and individual God." 

The following ingenious and characteristic 
note was found in a copy of the original edition 
of "Eureka," purchased at a sale of Dr. Gris- 
wold's library. The note, inscribed on the half- 
blank page at end of the volume, is in the hand- 
writing of the author : 

"Note. — The pain of the consideration that 
we shall lose our individual identity ', ceases at 
once when we further refect that the -process as 
above described is neither more nor less than 
that of the absorption , by each individual intel- 
ligence, of all other intelligences {that is, of the 
universe) into its own. That God may be all in 
ally each must become God." 

The publication of " Eureka " naturally aroused 



2Q2 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

controversy, at a time when sectarian dogmatism 
and Puritanical narrowness were less tolerant of 
heretical theories than at the present. A flippant 
critique of "Eureka" in "The Literary World" 
drew forth from Poe the following characteristic 
letter, addressed to the editor, Mr. C. T. Hoff- 
man, that indicated that his many privations had 
in no way tempered the severity cf his powers 
of criticism when once they were thoroughly 
aroused : — 

Dear sir, — In jour paper of July 29, I find some comments 
on "Eureka," a late book of my own; and I know you too 
well to suppose for a moment that you will refuse me the priv- 
ilege of a few words in reply. I feel even that I might safely 
claim from Mr. Hoffman the right which every author has of 
replying to his critic, tone for tone, that is to say, of answer- 
ing your correspondent's flippancy by flippancy, and sneer by 
sneer; but, in the first place, I do not wish to disgrace the 
" World," and in the second,. I feel that I should never be done 
sneering in the present instance were I once to begin. Lam- 
artine blames Voltaire for the use which he made of misrep- 
resentations {ruses) in his attacks on the priesthood ; but our 
young students of theoiogy do not seem to be aware that in 
defence, or what they fancy to be defence, of Christianity, 
there is anything wrong in such gentlemanly peccadilloes as 
the deliberate perversion of an author's text, to say nothing 
of the minor indecora of reviewing a book without reading it 
and without having the faintest suspicion of what it is about. 



EUREKA. 203 

You will understand that it is merely the misrepresenta- 
tions of the critique in question to which I claim the privilege 
of reply ; the mere opinions of the writer can be of no con- 
sequence to me, — and I should imagine of very little to him- 
fecif — that is to say, if he knows himself personally as well as 
/ have the honor of knowing him. The first misrepresenta- 
.ion is contained in this sentence : "This letter is a keen bur- 
lesque on the Aristotelian or Baconian methods of ascertain- 
ing Truth, both of which the writer ridicules and despises, and 
pours forth his rhapsodical ecstasies in a glorification of a 
third mode — the noble art of guessing." What I really say 
is this : " That there is no absolute certainty either in the 
Aristotelian or Baconian process ; that for this reason neither 
philosophy is so profound as it fancies itself, and that neither 
has a right to sneer at that seemingly imaginative process 
called Intuition (by which the great Kepler attained his laws), 
since ' Intuition,' after all, is but the conviction arising from 
those *"#ductions, or deductions, of which the processes are so 
shadowy as to escape our consciousness, elude our reason, or 
defy our capacity of expression." The second misrepresenta- 
tion runs thus: "The developments of electricity and the 
formation of stars and suns, luminous and non-luminous, 
moons and planets, with their rings, etc., is deduced, very 
much, according to the nebular theory of Laplace, from the 
principle propounded above." Now, the impression intended 
to be made here upon the reader's mind by the " student of 
theology " is, evidently, that my theory may be all very well 
in its way, but that it is nothing but Laplace over again, with 
some modifications that he (the student of theology) cannot 
regard as at all important. I have only to say that no gen- 
tleman can accuse me of the disingenuousness here implied ; 



204 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



inasmuch as, having proceeded with my theory to that point 
at which Laplace's theory meets it, I then give Laplace's 
theory in full, with the expression of my firm conviction of 
its absolute truth at all points. The ground covered by my 
theory, as a bubble compares with the ocean on which it 
floats ; nor has he the slightest allusion to " the principle pro- 
pounded above ; " the principle of unity being the source of all 
things, the principle of gravity being merely the re-action of 
the Divine actwhich irradiated all things from unity. In fact, 
no point of my theory has been even so much as alluded to 
by Laplace. I have not considered it necessary here to speak 
of the astronomical knowledge displayed in the " stars and 
suns " of the student of theology, nor to hint that it would be 
better grammar to say that "development and formation " are 
than that development and formation is. The third misrep- 
resentation lies in afoot-note, where the critic says, "Further 
than this, Mr. Poe's claim that he can account for the exist- 
ence of all organized beings, man included, merely from those 
principles on which the origin and present appearance of suns 
and worlds are explained, must be set down as mere bold as- 
sertion, without a particle of evidence. In other words, we 
should term it arrant fudge." . The perversion of this point 
is involved in a wilful misapplication of the word " princi- 
ples." I say "wilful," because at page 63 I am particularly 
careful to distinguish between the principles proper, attrac- 
tion and repulsion, and those merely resultant sud-pvinciples 
which control the universe in detail. To these sub-principles, 
swayed by the immediate spiritual influence of Deity, I leave, 
without examination, all that which the student of theology 
so roundly asserts I 'account for on the principles which ac- 
count for the constitution of suns, etc. . . . 



THE BELLS. 



205 



Were these "misrepresentations" (is that the name of 
them?) made for any less serious a purpose than that of 
branding my book as " impious," and myself as a " pantheist," 
a " polytheist," a Pagan, or a God knows what (and, indeed 
I care very little, so it be not a " student of theology"), I would 
have permitted their dishonesty to pass unnoticed, through 
pure contempt for the boyishness, for the trun-down-shirt- 
collarness of their tone; but as it is, you will pardon me, Mr. 
Editor, that I have been compelled to expose a " critic" who, 
courageously preserving his own anonymosi'/y, takes advan- 
tage of my absence from the city to misrepresent, and this 
villify me, by name. 

Edgar A. Poe. 

Fordham, September 20, 1848. 

In July, 1848, Poe visited Lowell, Massachu- 
setts, and there delivered his -lecture on Poetry. 
Another visijt to this city, in the spring of 1849, 
was eventful in that, during the time he remained 
there, at the house of a dear friend, he composed 
and finished his greatest descriptive poem, "The 
Bells," a study of which he had previously made 
and sent to "Sartain's Magazine." 

Commenting on the wonderful contrast pre- 
sented between the study and the finished mas- 
terpiece, the editor of " Sartain's"' gives the fol- 
lowing, including a copy of "The Bells," as 
originally composed : — 



2o6 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

"The singular poem of Mr. Poe's, called 'The 
Bells,' which we published in our last number, 
has been very extensively copied. There is a 
curious piece of literary history connected with 
this poem, which we may as well give now as at 
any other time. It illustrates the gradual develop- 
ment of an idea in the mind of a man of original 
genius. This poem came into our possession 
about a year since. It then consisted of eighteen 
lines! They were as follows : — 

THE BELLS.— A SONG. 

The bells ! — hear the bells ! 
The merry wedding bells ! 
The little silver bells ! 
How fairy-like a melody there swells 
From the silver tinkling cells 
Of the bells, bells, bells \ 
Of the bells ! 

The bells ! — ah, the bells ! 

The heavy iron bells ! 

Hear the tolling of the bells ! 

Hear the knells ! 
How horrible a monody there floats 

From their throats — 

From their deep-toned throats ! 
How I shudder at the notes 

From the melancholy throats 
Of the bells, bells, bells! 

Of the bells ! 



/ 



Fac-Simile of the Original Mss. of "The Bells." 
Jen LAHAAj SOMAA-d Htcd frlocJk 

foam . piA.t mnA tjA e ri &u H^o&lZ 

«// 01 QAocun . 

Jr/id tfvL kiokb— cdk } tfu. juoktsu 
T^-^o #>-** l sCetJ*- , ' ' 

And [srko j tclil^LOj } UrdvyLCj j toUAA^Ct 



J 



&h. Jrfji ruAwuMA fmcuit cl ftcmJL — 

Jhjvu Oi/ul vuu/&£A. <W)-0tyi own urvyyicwi 

PLAA 'KjuA&m. frX4Aui run* flusyviaM, , 



l/imt oajl fuA&.&AAsfcL'al Ca/LCcUU diJ>kcui/j.cL Azwv JfuuA* fauw> 

thermit, : — 



C/W-d. tkuA. favyuj it Is (*rno 
t4ni fuU syiAp^v* Imrm, Ju^uaU 

TrM ft*. P'outM ofi/fa Urn i 

cJn., <x ft>zt~ erf c/tuvue ^tlui^yM , 



THE BELLS. 



207 



"About six months after this, we received the 
poem enlarged and altered nearly to its present 
size and form ; and about three months since, the 
author sent another alteration and enlargement, 
in which condition the poem was left at the time 
of his death." 

The original MSS. of "The Bells," in its en- 
larged form, from which the draft sent to "Sar- 
tain's" was made, is in our possession at this 
time. The interlinings and revisions are pecu- 
liarly interesting as showing the author's extraor- 
dinary care in fine points of versification. 

In the twelfth line of the first stanza of the 
original draft, the word "bells" was repeated five 
times, instead of four, as Poe printed it, and but 
twice in the next line. In changing and obvious- 
ly improving the effect, he has drawn his pen 
through the fifth repetition, and added another, 
underlined^ to the two of the next line. 

The same change is made in the corresponding 
lines in the next stanza. 

In the sixth line of the third stanza, the word 
"much" is placed before "too," with the usual 
mark indicating the transposition which he made 
in printing it, and as originally written the word 



208 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

"anger," in the fifth line from the last in this 
stanza, was written "clamor," while "anger" 
was placed in the last line. By the transposition 
of these, he gained the euphonious alliterative 
effect in the last line which would otherwise have 
been wanting. 

In the sixth line of the fourth stanza, the word 
"meaning " was first used in lieu of the more im- 
pressive " menace," to which it gave place. The 
eighth line of this stanza was first written, "From 
out their ghostly throats ; " and the eleventh 
line was changed twice, reading first, "Who live 
up in the steeple," then "They that sleep " was 
substituted for "who live," and finally "dwell" 
was printed instead of "sleep." 

After the eighteenth line, a line was added that 
was elided entirely in the poem as printed. It 
read, — 

" But are pestilential carcasses departed from their souls." 

The ideality of the poem is immeasurably im- 
proved by the elision of this repulsive thought. 
In making the change, omitting this line, he 
simply substituted, "They are ghouls," in the 
next line, in pencil. 



SUGGESTIVE RECOLLECTIONS. 



209 



Kfac simile of a portion of this fourth stanza, 
which we give, showing some of the important 
alterations, is, perhaps, the most interesting spe- 
cimen of the poet's hand that has been printed. 

Some informal but quite suggestive recollec- 
tions of the poet have been given us by 2 lady 
now living, at that time a school-girl in her teens. 
According to this lady's statement, — and she is 
certainly disinterested, — the poet does not seem 
to have been the moral wreck that some of his 
biographers have sought to make him appear. 

*"I have in my mind's eye a figure somewhat 
below medium height, perhaps, but so perfectly 
proportioned, and crowned with such a noble 
head, so regally carried, that to my girlish ap- 
prehension he gave the impression of command- 
ing stature. Those clear, sad eyes seemed to 
look from an eminence rather than from the or- 
dinary level of humanity, while his conversa- 
tional tone was so low and deep that one could 
easily fancy it borne to the ear from some distar* 
height. 

"I saw him first in Lowell, and there heard him 
give a lecture on Poetry, illustrated by readings. 
His manner of rendering some of the selections 



2io LIFE -OF EDGAR A. POE. 

constitutes my only remembrance of the evening 
which so. fascinated me. Everything was ren- 
dered with pure intonation and perfect enuncia- 
tion, marked attention being paid to the rhythm. 
He almost sang the more musical versifications. 
I recall more perfectly than anything else the un- 
dulations of his smooth baritone voice as he 
recited the opening lines of Byron's ' Bride of 
Abydos,'— 

' Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle 
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,' — 

measuring the dactylic movement perfectly as if 
he were scanning it. The effect was very pleas- 
ing. 

" He insisted strongly upon an even, metrical 
flow in versification, and said that hard, unequally 
stepping poetry had better be done into prose. I 
think he made no selections of a humorous char- 
acter, either in his public or parlor readings. In- 
deed, anything of that kind seems entirely incom- 
patible with his personality. He smiled but sel- 
dom, and never laughed, or said anything to 
excite mirth in others. His manner was quiet 
and grave. John Brown of Edinboro' might 
have characterized it as " lonely." In thinking 



5 UGGE S TI VE RE COLL EC TIONS. 2 1 1 

of Mr. Poe in later years I have often applied 
to him the line of Wordsworth's Sonnet, — 

' Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart.' 

"I did not hear the conversation at Mrs. Rich- 
mond's after the lecture, when a few persons 
came in to meet him ; but I remember that my 
brother spoke with enthusiasm of the elegance 
of Mr. Poe's demeanor and the grace of his con- 
versation. In alluding to it he always says, f I 
have never seen it equalled.' A lady in the 
company differed from Mr. Poe, and expressed 
her opinions very strongly. His deference in 
listening was perfect, and his replies were models 
.of respectful politeness. Of his great satirical 
power his pen was generally the medium. If he 
used the polished weapon in conversation, it was 
so delicately and skilfully handled that only a 
quick eye would detect the gleam. Obtuseness 
was always perfectly safe in his presence. 

"A few months later than this, Mr. Poe came 
out to our home in Westford. My recollections 
of that visit are fragmentary, but vivid. 

V During the day he strolled off by himself ' to 
look at the hills,' he said. I remember standing 



212 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

in the low porch with my sister as we saw him 
returning ; and as soon as he stepped from the 
dusty street on to the greensward which sloped 
from our door, he removed his hat and came 
to us with uncovered head, his eyes seeming 
larger and more luminous than ever with the ex- 
hilaration of his walk. I recall his patiently un- 
winding from a nail a piece of twine that had 
been carelessly twisted and knotted around it, 
and then, hanging it back again over the nail in 
long, straight loops. It was a half-unconscious 
by-play of that ingenious mind which deciphered 
cryptographs, solved enigmas of all kinds, and 
wrote 'The Gold Bug' and 'The Balloon Hoax.' 
My memory photographs him again sitting before 
an open wood fire in the early autumn evening, 
gazing intently into the glowing coals, holding 
the hand of a dear friend, while for a long time 
no one spoke, and the only sound was the ticking 
of the tall clock in the corner. I wish I knew 
what he was dreaming about during that rapt 
silence. 

Later in the evening he recited, before a little 
reading club, several of his own poems, one of 
Willis', commencing, 'The shadows lay along 



SUGGESTIVE RECOLLECTIONS. 213 

Broadway,' which, he said, was a special favor- 
ite with him ; and one or two of Byron's shorter 
pieces. I thought everything was perfect ; but 
others said that much more effect might be given 
to his own unique poems. I suppose his voice 
and manner expressed the f Runic rhyme ' better 
than the 'tintinnabulation' or the 'turbulency' 
of the 'bells, bells, bells.' That poem was then 
fresh from the author's brain, and we had the 
privilege of hearing it before it was given to the 
world. 

" The next morning I was to go to school ; and 
before I returned he would be gone. I went to 
say good-bye to him, when, with that gracious, 
ample courtesy of his, which included even the 
rustic school-girl, he said, f I will walk with you.' 
He accompanied me nearly all the way, taking 
leav^e of me at last in such a gentle, kindly man- 
ner that the thought of it brings tears now to the 
eyes that then looked their last upon that finished 
scholar, and winning, refined gentleman." 

In 1845, Poe had visited Providence on 
his way to deliver his poem before the Boston 
Lyceum ; and there, while wandering through 
a retired street, he saw, walking in her garden, 



214 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

Mrs. S. H. Whitman, to whom, in his lecture 
on Poetry, he had awarded " a preeminence in 
refinement of art, enthusiasm, imagination and 
genius." The romantic incident of his meeting 
with Mrs. Whitman has, as is generally known, 
been exquisitely described by him in the poem 
"To Helen." 

Dr. Griswold's citation of the lines in connec- 
tion with one of his most scandalous anecdotes, 
has given them a celebrity which even their 
sumptuous beauty might not otherwise have 
insured to them. 

Early in September, 1848, the poet, having ob- 
tained a letter of introduction to Mrs. Whitman, 
again visited Providence, and made her acquaint- 
ance. Notwithstanding some opposition from 
the relatives of the lady, they were subsequently 
engaged. 

The lack of all moral sense has been so uni- 
versally imputed to Poe by his biographers, that 
the following passages from a letter by the poet, 
one of a series addressed to his fiancee , in which 
he speaks for himself upon this subject, may be 
worthy of consideration in this place :. 

October 18th. 
... Of what avail to me in my deadly grief are your en- 
thusiastic words of mere admiration ! You do not love me, 



AN IMPORTANT LETTER. 215 

or you would have felt too thorough a sympathy with the 
sensitiveness of my nature to have so wounded me, as you 
have done, with this terrible passage of your letter: "How 
often I have heard men and even women say of you, ' He has 
great intellectual power, but no principle, no moral sense.'" 
Is it possible that such expressions as these could have been 
repeated to me — to me — by one whom I loved — ah, whom I 
love ! And you ask me why such opinions exist. You will feel 
remorse for the question, when I say to you that until the 
moment when those horrible words first met my eye, I would 
not have believed it possible that any such opinions could 
have existed at all ; but that they do exist, breaks my heart in 
separating us forever. I love you too truly ever to have of- 
fered you my hand, ever to have sought your love, had I 
known my name to be so stained as your expressions imply. 
... It is altogether in vain that I tax my memory or my 
conscience. There is no oath which seems to me so sacred 
as that sworn by the all-divine love I bear you. By this love, 
then, and by the God who reigns in heaven, I swear to you 
that my soul is incapable of dishonor ; that with the excep- 
tion of occasional follies and excesses, which I bitterly la- 
ment, but to which I have been driven, and which are hourly 
committed by others without attracting any notice whatever, 
I can call to mind no act of my life which would bring a blush 
to my cheek or to yours. If I have erred at all in this regard, it 
has been on the side of what the world would call a Quixotic 
sense of the honorable, of the chivalrous. The indulgence 
of this sense has been the true voluptuousness of my life. It 
was for this species of luxury that in early youth I deliberate- 
ly threw away a large fortune rather than endure a trivial 
wrong. . . . Ah, how profound is my love for you, since \\ 



216 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

forces me into these egotisms, for which you will inevitably 
despise me! 

But grant that what jou urge were even true, do you not 
feel in your inmost heart of hearts that the soul-love of which 
the world speaks so often, and so idly, is, in this instance at 
least, but the veriest, the most absolute of realities? 

Ah, I could weep, I could almost be angry with you, for 
the unwarranted wrong you offer to the purity, to the sacred 
reality, of my affection. 

Referring to another passage in the letter quoted above, the 
poet writes : — 

''May God forever shield you from the agony which these 
words occasion me ! " 

You will never know, you can never picture to yourself, 
the hopeless, rayless despair with which I now trace these 
words. ... 

Nevertheless, I must now speak to you the truth or noth- 
ing. . . . But alas! for nearly three years I have been ill, 
poor, living out of the world, and thus, as I now painfully 
see, have afforded opportunity to my enemies to slander me 
in private society, without my knowledge, and thus with im- 
punity. 

Although much may, however (and I now see must), 
have been said to my discredit during my retirement, those 
few who, knowing me well, have been steadfastly my friends, 
permitted nothing to reach my ears, unless in one instance, 
where the accusation was of such character that I could ap- 
peal to a court of justice for redress. 

I replied to the charge fully in a public newspaper, suing 
"The Mirror 7 ' (in which the scandal appeared), obtaining a 
verdict and recovering such an amount of damages as fof the 



AN IMPORTANT LETTER. 



217 



time to completely break up that journal. And you ask why 
men so misjudge me, why I have enemies ! 

If your knowledge of my character, and of my career, does 
not afford you an answer to the query, at least it does not be- 
come me to suggest the answer. Let it suffice that I have 
hac 1 *Ve audacity to remain poor that I might preserve my 
indtoendence ; that, nevertheless, in letters, to a certain ex- 
tent and in certain regards, I have been successful ; that I 
have been a critic, an unscrupulously honest, and no doubl 
in many cases, a bitter one. 

That I have uniformly attacked, where I attacked at all, 
those who stood highest in power and influence, and that, 
whether in literature or in society, I have seldom refrained 
from expressing, either directly or indirectly, the pure con- 
tempt with which the pretensions of ignorance, arrogance or 
. imbecility inspire me. And you who know all this, you ask 
me why I have enemies. Ah, I have a hundred friends for 
every individual enemy; but has it ever occurred to you that 
you do not live among my friends ? 

Had you read my criticisms generally, you would see why 
all those whom you know best know me least and are my en- 
emies. Do you not remember with how deep a sigh I said to 

you in , " My heart is heavy, for I see that your friends 

are not my own !" . . . Forgive me, best and beloved , if 

there is bitterness in my tone. Towards you there is no room 
in my soul for any other sentiment than devotion. It is fate 
only which I accuse. — It is my own unhappy nature. 

Further on in this letter, the poet draws this 
picture of his ideal home : — 

" I suffered my imagination to stray with you, and with the 



2i8 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

few who love us both, to the banks of some quiet river in 
some lovely valley of our land. Here, not too far secluded 
from the world, we exercised a taste controlled by no conven- 
tionalities, but the sworn slave of a Natural Art, in the build- 
ing for ourselves a cottage which no human being could ever 
pass without an ejaculation of wonder at its" strange, weird 
and incomprehensible, yet simple, beauty. Oh, the sweet and 
gorgeous, but not often rare, flowers in which we half-buried 
it — the grandeur of the magnolias and tulip-trees which stood 
guarding it — the luxurious velvet of its lawn — the lustre of 
the rivulet that ran by its very door — .the tasteful yet quiet 
comfort of its interior — the music — the books — the unos- 
tentatious pictures — and, above all, the love, the love that 
threw an unfading glory over the whole ! — Alas ! all is now 
a dream." 

This letter of eloquent protest and appeal bears 
date October 18, 1848. No engagement at the 
time subsisted between the parties. 

Shortly after its date an incident occurred 
which has been widely chronicled as " an out- 
rage on the eve of an appointed marriage." 

Mrs. Whitman has permitted us to publish her 
own clear and authentic statement of the facts 
which underlie this scandal, thereby placing the 
story in its true light, and imparting a pro- 
found interest to the fragment of a letter to 
which she alludes, and of which we present 




o 
W 

H 
H 
W 

o 



GRISWOLD'S MISSTATEMENT. 2 iCf 

a. facsimile copy. Later, a conditional engage- 
ment was made. The poet was not able to 
adhere to the conditions, and the lady was, in 
duty and honor to her family, bound to give up 
the alliance. 

But it was not broken under any such circum- 
stances as those fabricated by Dr. Griswold in 
his narration of . the ' affair in his memoir. As 
this misstatement of Griswold is probably the 
most malicious of all his published mendacities, 
we have taken special pains to gather the evi- 
dence of its falsity ; evidence that Griswold de- 
liberately suppressed, although most of it was 
published previous to his issue of his memior of 
Poe in a permanent form. The correspondence 
which we quote, principally comprises letters from 
Wm. J. Pabodie, Esq., a prominent lawyer of 
Providence, very intimately acquainted both with 
Poe and with Mrs. Whitman, at the time of their 
engagement. 

To the editors of the "New York Tribune," 
Mr. Pabodie writes, after the misstatements of 
Griswold had been published and repeatedly 
copied by various perodicals : 

" In an article on American Literature in the ' Westminster 



220 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

Review ' for April, and in one on Edgar A. Poe, in ( Tait's 
Magazine' for the same month, we find a repetition of certain 
incorrect and injurious statements in regard to the deceased 
author, which should not longer be suffered to pass unnoticed. 
These statements have circulated through half a dozen foreign 
and domestic periodicals, and are presented with an ingenious 
variety of detail. As a specimen, we take a passage from Tait, 
who quotes as his authority Dr. Griswold's memoir of the 
poet : 

" ' Poe's life, in fact, during the three years that yet remained 
to him, was simply a repetition of his previous existence, not- 
withstanding which, his reputation still increased, and he made 
many friends. He was, indeed, at one time, engaged to marry 
a lady who is termed "one of the most brilliant women in New 
England." He, however, suddenly changed his determina- 
tion ; and after declaring his intention to break the match, he 
crossed, the same day, into the city where the lady dwelt, and, 
on the evening that should have been the evening before the 
bridal, " committed in drunkenness such outrages at her house 
as made necessary a summons of the police."' 

"The subject is one which cannotwellbe approached without 
invading the sanctities of private life ; and the improbabilities 
of the story may, to those acquainted with the parties, be 
deemed an all-sufficient refutation. But in view of the rapidly 
increasing circulation which this story has obtained, and the 
severity of comment which it has elicited, the friends of the 
late Edgar A. Poe deem it an imperative duty to free his 
memory from this unjust reproach, and to oppose to it their 
unqualified denial. Such a denial is due, not only to the 
memory of the departed, but also to the lady whose home is 
supposed to have been desecrated by these disgraceful out- 
rages. 



GRIS WOLD J S MISSS TA TEMENT. 2 2 1 

" Mr. Poe was frequently my guest during his stay in Provi- 
dence. In his several visits to the city I was with h.m daily. 
I was acquainted with the circumstances of his engagemer. I, 
and with the causes which led to its dissolution. I am 
authorized to say, not only from my personal knowledge, 
but also from the statements of all who were conversant with 
the affair, that there exists not a shadow of foundation for the 
stories above alluded to. 

" Mr. Poe's friends have no desire to palliate his faults, nor 
to conceal the fact of his intemperance — a vice which, though 
never habitual to him, seems, according to Dr. Griswold's 
published statements, to have repeatedly assailed him at the 
most momentous epochs of his life. With the single excep- 
tion of this fault, which he has so fearfully expiated, his 
conduct, during the period of my acquaintance with him, was 
invariably that of a man of honor and a gentleman ; and I 
know that, in the hearts of all who knew him best among us, 
he is remembered with feelings of melancholy interest and gen- 
erous sympathy. 

"We understand that Dr. Griswold has expressed his sin- 
cere regret that these unfounded reports should have been 
sanctioned by his authority; and we doubt not, if he possesses 
that fairness of character and uprightness of intention which 
we have ascribed to him, that he will do what lies in his 
power to remove an undeserved stigma from the memory of 
the departed. 

" William J. Pabodie. 
" Providence, June 2, 1852." 

In answer io this, we find Dr. Griswold, in the 
role of a bully, impudently attempting to put 



222 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

down Mr. Pabodie's dignified statement vi et 
armis. He writes to Mr. Pabodie a private let- 
ter, as follows : — 

New York, June 8, 1852. 

Dear Sir, — I think you have done wrong in publishing 
your communication in yesterday's "Tribune" without ascer- 
taining how it must be met. I have never expressed any 
such regrets as you write of, and I cannot permit any state- 
ment in my memoir of Poe to be contradicted by a reputable 
person, unless it is shown to be wrong. The statement in 
question I can easily prove, on the most unquestionable 
authority, to be true ; and unless you explain your letter to 
" The Tribune" in another for publication there, you will 
compel me to place before the public such documents as will 
be infinitely painful to Mrs. Whitman and all others concerned. 
The person to whom he disclosed his intention to break off 

the match was Mrs. H 1. He was already engaged to 

another party. I am sorry for the publication of your letter. 
Why you did not permit me to see it before it appeared, and 
disclose in advance these consequences, I cannot conceive. I 
would willingly drop the subject, but for the controversies 
hitherto in regard to it, with which you are acquainted. Be- 
fore writing to " The Tribune " I will await your opportunity 
to acknowledge this note, and to give such explanations of 
your letter as will render any public statement on my part 

unnecessary. 

In haste, yours respectfully, 

R. W. Griswold. 
W. J. Pabodie, Esq. 

To this insolent and impotent letter, which was 



PABODIE TO GRTSWOLD. 



223 



tesselated with scandalous and irrelevant stories 
respecting Mr. Poe's relations with some of his 
esteemed -and valued friends, Mr. Pabodie re- 
plied by calmly reiterating his published state- 
ment in "The New York Tribune," and by ad- 
ducing further proof of Griswold's audacious 
fabrications. The tone of this letter is in strik- 
ing contrast to that of Griswold's virulent and 
threatening note. Its forbearing mildness, in- 
deed, renders it open to criticism on this ground. 

June ii, 1852. 
Mr. Rufus W. Griswold. 

Dear Sir, — In reply to your note, I would say that I have 
simply testified to what I know to be true, namely, that no 
such incident as that so extensively circulated in regard to 
certain alleged outrages at the house of Mrs. Whitman, and 
the calling of the police, ever took place. The assertion 
that Mr. Poe came to Providence the last time with the inten- 
tion of breaking off the engagement, you will find equally un- 
founded, when I have stated to you the facts as I know them. 
In remarking that you had expressed regret at the fact of 
their admission into your memior, I had reference to a 
pa&sage in a letter written by Mrs. H. to Mrs. W., which was 
*oad to me by the latter some time since. I stated in all 
truthfulness the impression which that letter had left upon 
my mind. I enclose an extract from the letter, that j ou may 
judge for yourself: 

"Having heard that Mr. Poe was engaged to a lady of 



224 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

Providence I said to him, on hearing that he was going to 
that city, * Mr. Poe, are you going to Providence to he 
married?' — 'I am going to deliver a lecture on Poetry,' he 
replied. Then, after a pause, and with a look of great 
reserve, he added, ' That marriage may never take place.' " * 

I know that from the commencement of Poe's acquaintance 
with Mrs. W. he repeatedly urged her to an immediate 
marriage. At the time of his interview with Mrs. H., cir- 
cumstances existed which threatened to postpone the marriage 
indefinitely, if not altogether to prevent it. It was, undoubt- 
edly, with reference to these circumstances that his remark to 
Mrs. H. was made; certainly not to the breaking-oif the 
engagement, as his subsequent conduct will prove. He left 
New York for Providence on the afternoon of his interview 
with Mrs. H., not with any view to the proposed union, but 
at the solicitation of the Providence Lyceum ; and- on the 
evening of his arrival, delivered his lecture on American 
Poetry, before an audience of some two thousand persons. 
During his stay he again succeeded in renewing his engage- 
ment, and' in obtaining Mrs. W.'s consent to an immediate 
marriage. 

He stopped at the Earl house, where he became acquainted 
with a set of somewhat dissolute young men, who often in- 
vited him to drink with them. We all know that 'he some- 
times yielded to such temptations, and on the third or fourth 
evening after his lecture, he came up to Mrs. Whitman's in 
a state of partial intoxication. I was myself present nearly the 



* In another letter Mrs. H. writes, referring to this conversation, indig- 
nant at the use which Dr. Griswold had made of these innocent words, 
more than a year after she had reported them, " These were Mr. Poe's 
words, and these were all." 



P ABO DIE TO GR IS WOLD. 



225 



whole evening, and do most solemnly affirm that there was 
no noise, no disturbance, no "outrage," neither was there any 
"call for the police." Mr. Poe said but little. This was un- 
doubtedly the evening referred to in your memoir, for it was 
the only evening in which he was intoxicated during his last 
visit to this city; but it was not "the evening thn* should 
have been before the bridal," for they were not then pub- 
lished, and the law in our State required that they should be 
published at least three times, on as many different occasions, 
before they could be legally married. 

The next morning Mr. Poe manifested and expressed the 
most profound contrition and regret, and was profuse in his 
promises of amendment. He was still urgently anxious that 
the marriage should take place before he left the city. 

That very morning he wrote a note to Dr. Crocker, 
requesting him to publish the intended marriage at the 
earliest opportunity, and entrusted this note to me, with 
the request that I should deliver it in person. You will per- 
ceive, therefore, that I did not write unadvisedly in the state- 
ment published in " The Tribune." 

For yourself, Mr. Griswold, I entertain none other than the 
kindest feelings. I was not surprised that you should have 
believed those rumors in regard to Poe and his engagement; 
and although, from a regard for the feelings of the lady, I do 
not think that a belief in their truth could possibly justify 
their publication^yet I was not disposed to impute to you any 
wrong motive in presenting them to the public. I supposed 
rather that, in the hurry of publication and in the multiplicity 
of your avocations, you had not given each statement that 
precise consideration which less haste and more leisure would 
have, permitted. I was thus easily led to believe, from Mrs. 



226 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

H.'s letter, that -upon being assured of their incorrectness, 
and upon learning how exceedingly painful they were to the 
feelings of the surviving party, you sincerely regretted their 
publication. I would fain hope so still. 

In my article in " The Tribune," I endeavored to palliate 
their publication on your part, and to say everything in your 
extenuation that was consistent with the demands of truth 
and justice to the parties concerned. I would add, in regard 
to Poe's intoxication on the evening above alluded to, that to 
all appearances it was as purely accidental and unpremedi- 
tated as any similar act of his life. By what species of logic 
any one should infer that, in this particular instance, it was 
the result of a malicious purpose and deliberate design, I have 
never been able to conceive. The facts of the case, and his 
subsequent conduct, prove beyond a doubt that he had no 

such design. 

With great respect, 

Your obedient servant, 

William J. Pabodie. 
Rev. Rufus W. Griswold. 

It will be seen by this correspondence that the 
attempt of Dr. Griswold to browbeat Mr. Pabodie 
was courteously but firmly and unanswerably 
met. Dr. Griswold never paid. the slightest at- 
tention to this letter, contenting himself with 
leaving on record the outrageous scandal that has 
since obtained an almost unprecedented circula- 
tion in the numerous memoirs of Poe, based upon 
Dr. Griswold's malicious invention, that have 



MRS. WHITMAN'S TESTIMONY. 



227 



been published. The introduction of the story 
of the banns would seem to come under the head 
of what lawyers call " an accessory after the 
fact." Dr. Griswold had probably heard that 
the banns were written, if not published, and 
took advantage of this information to adroitly 
garnish his story with them. To set this question 
at rest forever, we have obtained permission to 
quote the following passages of a letter received 
from Mrs. Whitman in August, 1873 : 

" No such scene as that described by Dr. Griswold ever trans- 
pired in my presence. No one, certainly no woman, who 
had the slightest acquaintance with Edgar Poe, could have 
credited the story for an instant. He was essentially and in- 
stinctively a gentleman, utterly incapable, even in moments 
of excitement and delirium, of such an outrage as Dr. Gris- 
wold has ascribed to him. No authentic anecdote of coarse 
indulgence in vulgar orgies or bestial riot has ever been re- 
corded of him. During the last years of his unhappy life, 
whenever he yielded to the temptation that was drawing him 
into its fathomless abyss, as with the resistless swirl of the 
maelstrom, he always lost himself in sublime rhapsodies on 
the evolution of the universe, speaking as from some imagin- 
ary platform to vast audiences of rapt and attentive listeners. 
During one of his visits to this city, in the autumn of 1848, I 
once saw him after one of those nights of wild excitement, 
before reason had fully recovered its throne. Yet even then, 
in those frenzied moments when the doors of the mind's 



228 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

" Haunted Palace " were left all unguarded, his words were 
the words- of a princely intellect overwrought, and of a heart 
only too sensitive and too finely strung. I repeat that no one 
acquainted with Edgar Poe could have given Dr. GrisWold's 
scandalous anecdote a moment's credence. 
" Yours, etc., 

" S. H. Whitman." 

Apropos of Mr. Griswold's professed friendship 
for Poe, which he endeavors to demonstrate in 
copies of a correspondence which I cannot refrain 
from thinking was extensively " doctored " by the 
doctor, to suit his purpose, we are able to present, 
perhaps not inappropriately in this place, an ex- 
tract from an autograph letter of Dr. Griswold, 
written to Mrs. Whitman in 1849. 

The object of this was evidently to cool Mrs. 
Whitman's friendship for Mrs. Clemm, thus pre- 
venting their further intimacy. This was desir- 
able to Dr. Griswold for evident reasons. 

New York, December 17, 1849. 
My dear Mrs. Whitman. 

I have been two or three weeks in Philadelphia, attending 
to the remains which a recent fire left of my library and fur- 
niture, and so did not receive your interesting letter in regard 
to our departed acquaintance until to-day. I wrote, as you 
suppose the notice of Poe in "The Tribune," but very hastily. 







/tfa 






3 



Fac-Simile of a portion of a Letter from Mrs, S. H. Whitman. 
. ., - - -Jv^ '/***• ^&_ 6ti£/e— s/<?htf a*: s?z*Z^y^ fcrn^^te^ 













"HONEST IAGO." 



229 



I was not his friend, nor -was he mine, as I remember to have 
told jou. I undertook to edit his writings to oblige Mrs. 
Ciemm, and they will soon be published in two thick vol- 
umes, of which a copy shall be sent to you. I saw very little 
of Poe in his last years. ... I cannot ref/ain from begging 
you to be very careful what you say or write to Mrs. Clemm, 
who is not your friend, nor anybody's friend, and who has no 
element of goodness or kindness in her nature, but whose 
heart and understanding are full of malice and wickedness. I 
confide in you these sentences for your own sake only, for 
Mrs. C. appears to be a very warm friend to me. Pray de- 
stroy this note, and at least act cautiously, till I may justify 
it in a conversation with you. 

I am yours very sincerely, 

Rufus W. Griswold. 

This brief note affords a tolerably good speci- 
men of the utter duplicity of the man. In his 
printed memoir of Poe, he quotes a correspond- 
ence indicating professed friendship ; in private, 
he unequivocally owns that no friendship ever 
existed between Poe and himself. 

He writes that Mrs. Clemm is a friend to no 
one, and stigmatizes her character; and in the 
same breath speaks of her warm friendship for 
him. 

Had Griswold lived in Othello's time, no one 
could have disputed with him the position of 
" mine ancient," honest Iago. 



230 LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 

While living at Fordham, at this time, Poe is 
said to have written a book entitled K Phases of 
American Literature." 

Mr. M. A. Daly has stated that he saw the 
complete book ; but as nothing is known as to 
the fate of the manuscript, it is to be inferred 
that Dr. Griswold, who, of course, had charge 
of all of Poe's literary papers, found it desirable, 
to escape further scarifying, to destroy it. 

In the summer of 1849, the poet quitted Ford- 
ham, and returned to Richmond, partly for the 
purpose of delivering his lectures, and partly to 
accept an engagement on " The Southern Lite- 
rary Messenger," to which the whirligig of time 
thus brought him back, to end the work he had 
begun twelve years before. For " The Messen- 
ger," at this time, he wrote his sharp paragraphic 
papers, "Marginalia," a few poems and several 
reviews, among which were reviews of Mrs. Os- 
good and Mrs. Lewis (Stella). With the excep- 
tion of a brief visit to Philadelphia, he remained 
in and about Richmond for several months, 
making his headquarters at the office of "The 
Messenger." 

The editor of "The Messenger" at that time, 



ANNECDOTE OF ANNABEL LEE, 



231 



the late J. P. Thompson, has related not a few 
anecdotes of his acquaintance with Poe during 
his latter days 

One of these we recall in connection with one 
of his truest and most beautiful poems. 

Poe had completed his engagement with " The 
Messenger," and had called to take leave of 
Mr. Thompson. He was about to take a trip 
North for Mrs. Clemm, to bring her South. He 
was needy, and had asked Mr. Thompson for a 
loan of five dollars to help out his travelling ex- 
penses. 

As he was about to go, he turned to Mr. 
Thompson, saying, "By the way, you have been 
very kind to me, — here is a little trifle that may 
be worth something to you ; " and he handed 
Mr. Thompson a small roll of paper, upon which 
was written the exquisite lines of "Annabel Lee." 

During this same season, Poe had apparently 
had better luck than had been his fortune in 
former times, in obtaining material guarantees 
for starting "The Stylus," and as late as August 
in this year, had formed definite plans with Mr. 
E. H. N. Patterson, for issuing the magazine in 
July of the following year. 



232 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

The following letter from Mr. Patterson indi- 
cates that definite plans had been -formed. It is 
interesting as being the last allusion anywhere to 
be found of this fated enterprise of the sanguine 
but unfortunate poet : 

Oojjawka, 111., Aug. 21, 1849. 
Edgar A. Poe, Esq. 

My Dear Sir, — Yours of the 7th inst. was received last 
night, and I hasten to reply. I am truly glad to hear that you 
are recovering your health, and trust it will soon be fully re- 
stored. You cannot enter into the joint publication of a $3 
Mag. with " your heart in the work." Well, what say you to 
this? — 

In publishing a $5 magazine, of 96 pp., monthly, — page' 
same size as "Graham's," — in bourgeois or brevier (instead of 
long primer and brevier, as first proposed), it would be neces- 
sary for me to make an outlay of at least $1100 (this amount 
including a supply of paper for three months for 2000 copies). 
Now, if you are sure that, as you before thought, 1000 sub- 
scribers can be obtained who will pay upon receipt of the 
first number, then you may. consider me pledged to be with 
you in the "undertaking. 

If this proposition meets your approval, you may imme- 
diately commence your journey to St. Louis — making easy 
stages through the South, and operating on your way — so as 
to reach that city by the middle of October (say the 15th), 
keeping me advised of your progress, as you proceed, by let- 
ter, saj' every two weeks. I will meet you at St. Louis, by 
the time mentioned, at which time I shall be more at leisure 



LETTER FROM MR. PATTERSON. 



2 33 



than before, and can then settle on arrangements. You may 
associate my name with your own in the matter, the same as 
if I had met you in person. 

Adopt your own title. I leave this matter to you, as be- 
longing peculiarly to your department. (Remember, how- 
ever, published simultaneously at New York and St. Louis.) 
The first number can be issued in July — it is now too late to 
do it in January, and it would not be advisable to commence at 
any time other than the beginning or the middle of the year. 
I will try to be at St. Louis on the 15th of October, if your 
answer to this be favorable ; until which time* I bid you God- 
speed, and beg leave to sign myself, 

Most truly yours, 

Ed. H. N. Patterson. 

P.S. — I send this via St. Louis and Vincennes, and will 
make a duplicate via Chicago to-morrow. 

Yours, E. H. N. P. 

One of the saddest pictures of Poe's later days, 
when the dark mantle of a blighting sorrow was 
enshrouding him, is afforded in an account, 
Which is gathered from an old-time associate of 
the poet, of his last visit to Philadelphia, which 
took place at this time. The picture is none the 
less sad in that some of the poet's happiest hours 
had been passed in his cosy little home in that 
city, years before, with his charming and devoted 
child-wife, Virginia. 

During this visit, which was made only a 



234 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



short time previous to his death in Baltimore, 
Poe was an inmate of the hospitable mansion 
of the artist and publisher, Mr. J. Sartain, widely 
known as the proprietor of t; Sartain's Magazine," 
whose kindness the poet had frequently shared. 
Fortunate, indeed, would it have been for Poe 
had he met with this staunch friend on first 
reaching the city at this time. Had he fallen 
into his protecting hands earlier, instead of meet- 
ing with reckless associates, ready as in old times 
to tempt him to the indulgence inevitably fatal to 
him, how different might have been his fate ! 
But it was ordained otherwise. When he finally 
reached the residence of his kind friend, Poe 
was in a highly excited condition, almost dis- 
tracted indeed. His mind seemed bewildered 
and oppressed with the dread of some fearful 
conspiracy against his life ; nor could the argu- 
ments or entreaties of his friend convince him 
that some deadly foe was not, at that very mo- 
ment, in pursuit of him. He begged for a razor 
for the purpose of removing the mustache from 
his lip, in order, as he suggested, that he might 
disguise his appearance, and thus baffle his pur- 
suers. But, unwilling to place such an instru- 



LAST VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA. 



235 



ment in his hands, he was prevailed upon to 
allow his host to effect the desired change upon 
which he imagined his safety depended. The 
condition of Poe's mind was such, that Mr. Sar- 
tain, after persuading him to lie down, remained 
watching with him through the night with anx- 
ious solicitude, unwilling to lose sight of the 
unfortunate sufferer for a moment. The follow- 
ing night, Poe insisted upon going out. He 
turned his .steps towards the River Schuylkill, 
accompanied, however, by his devoted friend, 
whose apprehension was strengthened by the 
vehemence with which, without cessation, he 
poured forth, in the rich, musical tones for 
which he was distinguished, the fervid imageries 
of his brilliant but over-excited imagination. The 
all-absorbing theme which still retained posses- 
sion of his mind, was the fearful conspiracy that 
threatened his destruction. Vainly his friend 
endeavored to re-assure and persuade him. He 
rushed on with unwearied steps, threading dif- 
ferent streets, his companion striving to lead him 
homeward, but still in vain. 

Towards midnight, they reached Fairmount, 
and ascended the steps leading to the summit, 



236 LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. . 

Poe all the while giving free scope to the con- 
versational powers for which he was always 
remarkable, insisting upon the imminence of his 
peril, and pleading with touching eloquence for 
protection. 

In the darkness of the night, the solemn still- 
ness only broken by the even fall of the water 
below, in peaceful contrast with the wild disorder 
of the unhappy poet's brain, he seemed a personi- 
fication of the subject of his own " Raven," — 

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, won- 
dering, fearing, doubting, dreaming, 
Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." 

He did not recover from this intense excite- 
ment until, subsequently escaping from the house, 
he wandered out into the neighborhood of the 
city, and, throwing himself down in the open 
air in a pleasant field, his shattered nerves found 
a comfortless but sorely needed repose. 

He awoke refreshed; but, like Cassio, "re- 
membered a mass of things, but nothing dis- 
tinctly." 

All that he could recall to mind were the en- 
treaties and persuasions of some " guardian an- 



THE UNFORTUNATE TRIP NORTH. 



237 



gel," who had sought to dissuade him from a 
frightful purpose. He recalled the kind remon- 
strances, but nothing more, — not even the identity 
of the friend to whose kind offices he had been 
indebted. The next day, his friend parted with 
him, and, as fate ordained, forever. 

While in Richmond, Poe had renewed his 
acquaintance with Mrs. Shelton, to whom he had 
paid attentions in his youth, and before he left 
"The Messenger," they had become engaged. 

When he left Richmond, it was with the inten- 
tion of going North to bring Mrs. Clemm from 
Lowell, to attend his marriage with Mrs. Shelton. 

At Baltimore, he had the misfortune to meet a 
friend at the depot who persuaded him to drink. 
He accepted, with the usual result — actual men- 
tal derangement, to a degree that at Havre de 
Grace, the conductor of the train, finding him in 
a state of delirium, and knowing that he had 
friends and relatives in Baltimore, brought him 
back to that city. He arrived at night. It was 
the eve of a municipal election, and as he was 
still partially deranged, wandering through the 
streets, he was seized by the ruffianly agents of 
one of the political clubs, and locked up for 
the night for use at the polls in the morning. 



238 LIKE OF EDGAR A. POE. 

The next day he was taken out, still in a state 
of delirum, drugged, and made to repeat votes at 
eleven different wards. 

The following day he was found in the back 
room of one of the political headquarters, and 
removed to the Washington University Hospital, 
situated on Broadway, north of Baltimore street. 

What wonder that an organization as sensitive 
as his, should have succumbed to the terrible ex- 
posure and humiliation which had been his lot 
at the hands of the brutal wretches among whom 
he had unwittingly fallen. The exposure, com- 
bined with the effects of liquor and drugs, had 
brought on an inflammation of the brain, and 
shortly after midnight of the 7th of October, 
1849, the unfortunate man breathed his last, 
surrounded by the few friends and relatives whom 
it had been possible to notify during the day. 

Mr. Neilson Poe, his cousin, his nearest living 
male relative, was with him in his last moments, 
and took charge of his papers after his death. 

J. J. Moran, M.D., attended the poet at the 
hospital. During the conversation that passed be- 
tween the physician and his patient, Dr. Moran 
asked, wishing to ascertain whether he would be 



LAST MOMENTS. 



239 



inclined to take liquor, "Will you take some 
wine ? " " He opened wide his large eyes," writes 
Dr. Moran, "and fixed them so steadily upon me, 
and with such anguish in them, that I looked 
from him to the wall beyond the bed, while he 
said, 'Sir, if its potency would transport me to 
the Elysian bowers of the undiscovered spirit 
world, I would not taste it, — I would not taste it. 
Of its horrors who can tell ? ' " His last coherent 
words, as recalled by Dr. Moran, were, "It's all 
over ; write ? Eddie is no more.' "* He had pre- 
viously directed that letters be written to Mrs. 
Shelton, at Norfolk, Virginia, and to Mrs. 
Glemm, at Lowell, Mass., acquainting them with 
his illness. 

He was buried on the 8th of October, in the 
burial ground of the Westminster Church, near the 
corner of Fayette and Greene streets, Baltimore. 

For months previous to his untimely death, 
Poe had been carefully abstemious, up to the last 
week, during which his misfortunes in Philadel- 
phia and Baltimore occurred ; and the sudden and 
fearful change, from the most careful and tender 



* " Eddie " was the name which Mrs, Clemm called him by. 



240 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. POE. 



nursing, to the most reckless exposure to the 
damp and cold of an out-of-doors bed, produced 
immediate effects, planting the insidious seeds 
that flowered into deadly bloom, with the aid of 
his later unfortunate exposure when in the hands 
of the Baltimore roughs. 

We are prone to accept the most obvious ex- 
planation of an event as the true explanation or 
cause of that event. The lesson of experience 
teaches us that the most obvious analyses are, as 
a rule, the most deceptive. It is commonly be- 
lieved, for instance, that Edgar Poe died from 
the effects of dissipation, which, gradually, from 
long continuance, undermined his constitution. 
We are convinced that his death is not to be as- 
signed to any such positive and debasing cause. 
For many years of his lifetime, spite of all ac- 
counts to the contrary, he lived happy and com- 
fortable, in a charming home, with a companion 
that realized his delicate and refined ideal. The 
shadow of the destroying angel's hand that first 
cast its blight upon this companion, was the one 
great, unlooked-for sorrow that he could not, 
would not, accept unrepiningly. 

From the moment of his wife's death, he waged 
an unequal battle with a relentless fate. Well 



A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. 241 

knowing his need — the balance and support af- 
forded by the interchange of spiritual sympathy 
with a congenial mind — he was deprived even 
of the possible gratification of this want by the 
peculiar construction of his mental organism. 

The Upas of his morbid imagination, no longer 
controlled by the healthful restraints of the pure, 
simplicity of the atmosphere that his child-wife 
had thrown around him, twined like a poisonous 
blight about him, enervating his nobler energies, 
and, spite of his reason, blasting the healthier 
aspirations of his genius. 

Poe may be regarded as a man who lived and 
died never entirely understood* — one who, sen- 
sitive to a degree altogether incomprehensible to 
practical minds, yet was so unfortunate as to live 
among the practical-minded only, and at a time 
when temperament, as such, was essentially 
omitted in society's estimate of a man. It was 
Poe's misfortune that his temperament was totally 
at variance with the spirit of the age in which he 
lived. 

In a certain sphere of thought, his ideas were 
altogether in advance of those of the people with 
whom he was associated. The world at large 
was never responsive to him in any significant de- 



2 4 2 



LIFE OF EDGAR A. FOE. 



gree. It could admire or despise him. It could 
not sympathize with him, or appreciate him 

The nineteenth century, generous as it has 
been in the production of geniuses, has been 
none too prolific in these rare creations. Many 
of them, alas, now live only in memory and in 
their works. 

It behooves us then to preserve their memories 
free from baleful calumny. The veil of cal- 
umny has heavily clouded the memory of Edgar 
Allan Poe. 

May we be permitted to hope that, from the 
facts and impressions which our researches, 
which claim not to be adequate or complete, 
have enabled us to give, some rays of light may 
find their way through the repelling gloom that 
has, in the past, shut out from, view much of the 
fairer side of the poet's life. 

THE END. 




APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX 




How Griswold Secured Poe's Papers — Ephemeral Vindica- 
tions of the Poet — George R. Graham's Noble Tribute — 
Mrs. Whitman's Memoir — Some Unpublished Collec- 
tions — J. H. Ingram's Memoir — Fairfield's Absurd Article 
in " Scribner" — Memoirs of Stoddard, Didier, and Memo- 
rial by Miss Rice — Extraordinary Catastrophe to the 
Original Monument to Poe — The Monument Erected 
November n, 1875, in Baltimore — The Dedicatory Exer- 
cises — Addresses — Letters from Distinguished People. 



ROM a correspondence with Mrs. Clemm, 
who, there can be no reasonable doubt, 
is correctly described by Willis as "one 
of those angels upon earth that women in adver- 
sity can be," we find The most positive testimony 
that Dr. Griswold's association with collecting 
the works of Poe, and of writing a memoir of the 
author, was purely voluntary and speculative. 

It presents simply the fact of a designing and 
unscrupulous man, prompted . by hatred and 
greed of gain, taking advantage of a helpless 
woman, unaccustomed to business, to defraud her 

245 



246 APPENDIX. 

of her rights, and gratify his malice and his 
avarice at her expense. 

A small sum having been given, to Mrs. 
Clemm in exchange for Poe's private papers, 
Dr. Griswold draws up a paper for Mrs. Clemm 
to sign, announcing his appoinment as Poe's lit- 
erary executor, not omitting, of course, a touch- 
ing allusion to himself. This is duly signed by 
Mrs. Clemm, and printed over her signature in 
the published editions of Poe's works But if the 
wording of this curious paper be carefully ob- 
served, it will be noted that nothing whatever is 
said in it of any request by Poe that Dr. Gris- 
wold should write a memoir of his life. This 
duty was properly assigned to Mr. Willis — -of 
all men familiar with the subject, the most com- 
petent to fulfil such a task, — and his tender and 
manly tribute to the stricken genius was all that 
could have been wished, all that the world called 
for. 

Mrs. Clemm had no idea, at the time she signed 
the paper, which she scarcely understood, that 
Dr. Griswold had any intention of supplementing 
Mr. Willis's obituary with any memoir by his 
own pen. It was a piece of gratuitous malice — 






HOW GRISWOLD BECAME EXECUTOR. 247 

the act of a fiend exulting over a dead and help- 
less victim. 

The tone of Poe's critique of Griswold, in his 
review of the " Poets and Poetry of America," 
which unquestionably inspired the reverend doc- 
tor's malignant hatred, scathing as it is, will 
impress the reader with its outspoken manliness 
and integrity of purpose. What a contrast to 
the biography that, while undermining the very 
foundations of Poe's moral and social character, 
yet hypocritically professes • to be dictated by 

friendship, and written in a generous spjrjU 

We are convinced that Dr. Griswold's precious 
specimen of his generosity will go on record in 
the history of literature as an everlasting monu- 
ment of his despicable meanness. 

It is certainly to be regretted that the vindica- 
tions of the poet, after his death, were left to the 
ephemeral fate of newspaper issue only, and that 
no permanent place has, in any American me- 
moir of Poe, been given to the manly and spirited 
defence of the poet, written by George R. Gra- 
ham, and published in "Graham's Magazine" in 
1850. 

Mr. Graham was peculiarly fitted to speak of • 



248 APPENDIX. 

the maligned poet, for no one of Poe's literary 
contemporaries had known him as intimately, 
both in the mercantile and the domestic relations. 

His testimony to the memory of the stricken 
genius will, it is to be hoped, be forever em- 
balmed in all future biographies of the poet ; for, 
without it, none would be complete. 

We quote it here, as the most important tribute 
to the poet's personal worth, ever offered by one 
of his contemporaries. 

My Dear Willis, — 

In an article of yours which accompanies the 
two beautiful volumes of the writings of Edgar 
Allan Poe, you have spoken with so much truth 
and delicacy of the deceased, and, with the 
magical touch of genius, have called so warmly 
up before me the memory of our lost friend as 
you and I both seem to have known him, that I 
feel warranted in addressing to you the few plain 
words I have to say in defence of his character 
as set down by Mr. Griswold. 

Although the article, it seems, appeared origi- 
nally in the "New York Tribune," it met my 
eye for the first time in the volumes before me. 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 249 

I now purpose to take exception to it in the most 
public manner. I knew Mr. Poe well, far better 
than Mr. Griswold ; and by the memory of old 
times, when he was an editor of " Graham," I 
pronounce this exceedingly ill-timed and unappre- 
ciative estimate of the character of our lost 
friend, unfair and untrue. It is Mr. Poe as 
seen by the writer while laboring under a fit of 
the nightmare, but so dark a picture has no re- 
semblance to the living man. Accompanying 
these beautiful volumes, it is an immortal infamy, 
the death's head over the entrance to the garden 
of beauty, a horror that clings to the brow of 
morning, whispering of murder. It haunts the 
memory through every page of his writings, 
leaving upon the heart a sensation of utter gloom, 
a feeling almost of terror. The only, relief we 
feel is in knowing that it is not true, that it is a 
fancy sketch of a perverted, jaundiced vision. 
The man who could deliberately say of Edgar 
Allan Poe, in a notice of his life and writings 
prefacing the volumes which were to become a 
priceless souvenir to all who loved him, that his 
death might startle many, " but that few would 
be grieved by it," and blast the whole fame of 



250 



APPENDIX. 



the man by such a paragraph as follows, is a 
judge dishonored. He is not Mr. Poe's peer, 
and I challenge him hefore the country even as a 
juror in the case : 

" His harsh experience had deprived him of all faith in man 
or woman. He had made up his mind upon the numberless 
complexities of the social world, and the whole system with 
him was an imposture. This conviction gave a direction to 
his shrewd and naturally unamiable character. Still, though 
he regarded society as composed altogether of villains, 
the sharpness of his intellect was not of that kind which en- 
abled him to cope with villainy, while it continually caused 
him, by overshots, to fail of the success of honesty. He was 
in many respects like Francis Vivian in Bulwer's novel of 
' The Caxtons.' Passion, in him, comprehended many of 
the worst emotions which militate against human happiness. 
You could not contradict him, but you raised quick choler ; 

YOU COULD NOT SPEAK OF WEALTH, BUT HIS CHEEK PALED 

. with gnawing envy. The astonishing natural advantages 
of this poor boy, — his beauty, his readiness, the daring spirit 
that breathed around him like a fiery atmosphere, had raised 
his constitutional self-confidence into an arrogance that turned 
his very claims to admiration into prejudices against him. 
Irascible, envious, bad enough, but not the worst, for 
these salient angles were all varnished over with a cold, re- 
pellant cynicism ; his passions vented themselves in sneers. 
There seemed to him no moral susceptibility; and, 
what was more remarkable in a proud nature, little 
or nothing of the true point of honor. He had, too, 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 251 

a morbid excess, that desire to rise which is vulgarly called 
ambition, but no wish for the esteem or the love of his spe- 
cies ; only the hard wish to succeed, — not shine, nor serve, — 
succeed, that he might have the right to despise a world 
which galled his self-conceit." 

Now this is dastardly, and, what is worse, it 
is false. It is very adroitly done, with phrases 
very well turned, and with gleams of truth shin- 
ing out from a setting so dusky, as to look devil- 
ish. Mr. Griswold does not feel the worth of 
the man he has undervalued ; he had no sym- 
pathies in common with him, and has allowed 
old prejudices and old enmities to steal, insensi- 
bly perhaps, into the coloring of his picture. 
They were for years totally uncongenial, if not 
enemies, and during that period Mr. Poe, in a 
scathing lecture upon " The Poets of America," 
gave Mr. Griswold some raps over the knuckles 
of force sufficient to be remembered. He had, 
too, in the exercise of his functions as critic, put 
to death summarily the literary reputation of 
some of Mr. Griswold's best friends ; and their 
ghosts "cried in vain for him to avenge them dur- 
ing Poe's lifetime ; and it almost seems as if 
the present hacking at the cold remains of him 



252 



APPENDIX. 



who struck them down, is a sort of compensa- 
tion for duty long delayed, for reprisal long de- 
sired, but deferred. But without this, the oppor- 
tunities afforded Mr. Griswold to estimate the 
character of Poe occurred, in the main, after his 
stability had been wrecked, his whole nature in 
a degree changed, and with all his prejudices 
aroused and active. Nor do I consider Mr. Gris- 
wold competent, with all the opportunities he 
may have cultivated or acquired, to act as his 
judge, to dissect that subtle and singularly fine 
intellect, to probe the motives and weigh the ac- 
tions of that proud heart. His whole nature, 
that distinctive presence of the departed, which 
now stands impalpable, yet in strong outline be- 
fore me, as I knew him and felt him to be, 
eludes the rude grasp of a mind so warped and 
uncongenial as Mr. Griswold's. 

But it may be said, my dear Willis, that Mr. 
Poe himself deputed him to act as his literary 
executor, and that he must have felt some confi- 
dence, in his ability at least, if not in his integri- 
ty, to perform the functions imposed, with discre- 
tion and honor. I do not purpose, now, to enter 
into any examination of the appointment of Mr. 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 253 

Griswold, nor of the wisdom of his appoint- 
ment, to the solemn trust of handing the fait 
fame of the deceased, unimpaired, to that posterity 
to which the dying poet bequeathed his legacy, 
but simply to question its faithful performance. 
Among the true friends of Poe in this city — and 
he had some such here 1 — there are those, I am 
sure, that he did not class among villains ; nor 
do they feel easy when they see their old friend 
dressed out, in his grave, in the habiliments of a 
scoundrel. There is something to them in this 
mode of procedure on the part of the literary ex- 
ecutor that does not chime in with their notions 
of "the true point of honor." They had all of 
them looked upon our departed friend as singu- 
larly indifferent to wealth for its own sake, but 
as very positive in his opinions that the scale of 
social merit was not of the highest; that mind, 
somehow, was apt to be left out of the estimate 
altogether ; and, partaking somewhat of his free 
way of thinking, his friends are startled to find 
they have entertained very unamiable convic- 
tions. As to his " quick choler " when he was 
contradicted, it depended a good deal upon the 
party denying, as well as upon the subject dis- 



254 



APPENDIX. 



cussed. He was quick, it is true, to perceive 
mere quacks in literature, and somewhat apt to 
be hasty when pestered with them ; but npon 
most other questions his natural amiability was 
not easily disturbed. Upon a subject that he 
understood thoroughly, he felt some right to be 
positive, if not arrogant, when addressing pre- 
tenders. His " astonishing natural advantages " 
had been very assiduously cultivated ; his " dar- 
ing spirit " was the anointed of genius ; his self- 
confidence the proud conviction of both ; and it 
was with something of a lofty scorn that he at- 
tacked, as well as repelled, a crammed scholar 
of the hour, who attempted to palm upon him his 
ill-digested learning. Literature with him was 
religion; and he, its high priest, with a whip 
of scorpions, scourged the money-changers from 
the temple. - In all else, he had the docility and 
kind-heartedness of a child. No man was more 
quickly touched by a kindness, none more prompt 
to return for an injury. For three or four years 
I knew him intimately, and for eighteen months 
saw him almost daily, much of the time writing 
or conversing at the same desk, knowing all his 
hopes, his fears, and little annoyances of life, as 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 



255 



well as his high-hearted struggle with adverse 
fate; yet he was always the same polished gen- 
tlemen, the quiet, unobtrusive, thoughtful scholar, 
the devoted husband, frugal in his personal ex- 
penses, punctual and unwearied in his industry, 
and the soul of honor in all his transactions. 
This, of course, was in his better days, and by 
them we judge the man. But even after his 
habits had changed, there was no literary man to 
whom I would more readily, advance money for 
labor to be done. He kept his accounts, small 
as they were, with the accuracy of a banker. I 
append an account sent to me in his own hand, 
long after he had left Philadelphia, and after all 
knowledge of the transactions it recited had es- 
caped my memory. I had returned him the story 
of " The Gold Bug," at his own request, as he 
found that he could dispose of it very advanta- 
geously elsewhere : — 

We were square when I sold you the " Versification" 
article, for which you gave me, first, $25, and after- 
wards $7 — in all $32 00 

Then you bought " The Gold Bug " for . . • 52 00 

I got both these back, so that I owed . . . $84 00 
You lent Mrs. Clemm 12 50 

Making in all . $96 50 



256 APPENDIX. 

The review of "Flaccus" was 33-4 pp., 

which, at $4, is $15 00 

Lowell's poem is 10 00 

The review of Channing, 4 pp., is $16, of 

which I got $6, leaving . . . 10 00 

The review of Halleck, 4 pp., is $16, of 

which I got $10, leaving . . . 6 00 

The review of Reynolds, 2 pp. . 8 00 

The review of Longfellow, 5 pp., is $20, 

of which I got $10, leaving ... 1000 

So that I have paid in all ... 59 00 



Which leaves still due by me . ... $37 50 

This, I find, was his uniform habit with others 
as well as myself, carefully recalling to mind his 
indebtedness with the fresh article sent. And 
this is the man who had " no moral susceptibil- 
ity," and little or nothing of the "true point of 
honor." It may be a very plain business view of 
the question, but it strikes his friends that it may 
pass as something, as times go. 

I shall never forget how solicitous of the hap- 
piness of his wife and mother-in-law he was 
whilst one of the editors of "Graham's Maga- 
zine ; " his whole efforts seemed to be to procure 
the comfort and welfare of his home. Except 
for their happiness, and' the natural ambition of 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 



257 



having a magazine of his own, I never heard him 
deplore the want of wealth. The truth is, he 
cared little for money, and knew less of its value, 
for he seemed to have no personal expenses. 
What he received from me, in regular monthly 
instalments, went directly into the hands of his 
mother-in-law for family comforts, and twice 
only I remember his purchasing some rather ex- 
pensive luxuries for his house, and then he was 
nervous to the degree of misery until he had, by 
extra articles, covered what he considered an im- 
prudent indebtedness. His love for his wife was 
a sort of rapturous worship of the spirit of beauty 
which he felt was fading before his eyes. I have 
seen him hovering around her when she was ill, 
with all the fond fear and tender anxiety of a 
mother for her first-born, her slightest cough caus- 
ing in him a shudder, a heart-chill that was visible. 
I rode out, one summer evening, with them, and 
the remembrance of his watchful eyes eagerly bent 
upon the slightest change of hue in that loved 
face haunts me yet as the memory of a sad strain. 
It was the hourly anticipation of her loss that 
made him a sad and thoughtful man, and lent a 
mournful melody to his undying song. 



258 APPENDIX. 

It is true, that later in life Poe had much of 
those morbid feelings which a life of poverty and 
d:'sappointment is so apt to engender in the heart 
of man — : the sense of having been ill-used, mis- 
understood, and put aside by men of far less 
ability, and of none, — which preys upon the heart 
and clouds the brain of many a child of song. 
A consciousness of the inequalities of life, and of 
the abundant power of mere wealth, allied even 
to vulgarity, to override all distinctions, and to 
thrust itself, bedaubed with dirt and glittering 
with tinsel, into the high places of society, and 
the chief seats of the synagogue ; whilst he, a 
worshipper of the beautiful and true, who listened 
to the voices of angels and held delighted com- 
panionship with them as the cold throng swept 
.disdaindfully by him, was often in danger of 
being thrust out, houseless, homeless, beggared, 
upon the world, with all his fine feelings strung 
to a tension of agony when he thought of his 
beautiful and delicate wife, dying hourly before 
his eyes. What wonder that he then poured out 
the vials of a long-treasured bitterness upon the 
injustice and hollo wness of all society around 
him. 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 



259 



The very natural question "Why did he not 
work and thrive?" is easily answered. It will 
not be asked by the many who know the preca- 
rious tenure by which literary men hold a mere 
living in this country. The avenues through 
which they can profitably reach the country are 
few, and crowded with aspirants for bread, as 
well as fame. The unfortunate tendency to 
cheapen every literary work to the lowest point 
of beggarly flimsiness in price and profit, pre- 
vents even the well-disposed from extending 
anything like an adequate support to even a part 
of the great throng which genius, talent, educa- 
tion, and even misfortune, force into the struggle. 
The character of Poe's mind was of such an order 
as not to be very widely in demand. The class 
of educated mind which he could readily and prof- 
itably address was small — the channels through 
which he could do so at all were few — and 
publishers all, or nearly all, contented with such 
pens as were already engaged, hesitated to incur 
the expense of his to an extent which would suffi- 
ciently remunerate him ; hence, when he was 
fairly at sea, connected permanently with no 
publication, he suffered all the horrors of pro- 



260 APPENDIX. 

spective destitution, with scarcely the ability of 
providing for immediate necessities ; and at such 
moments, alas ! the tempter often came, and as 
as you have truly said, " one glass " of wine 
made him a madman. Let the moralist, who 
stands upon "tufted carpet," and surveys his 
smoking board, the fruits of his individual toil 
or mercantile adventure, pause before he let the 
anathema, trembling upon his lips, fall upon a 
man like Poe, who, wandering from publisher 
to publisher, with his fine, print-like manuscript, 
scrupulously clean and neatly rolled, finds no 
market for his brain — with despair at heart, 
misery ahead, for himself and his loved ones, and 
gaunt famine dogging at his heels, thus sinks by 
the wayside, before the demon that watches 
his steps and whispers oblivion. Of all the 
miseries which God, or his own vices, inflict 
upon man, none are so terrible as that of having 
the strong and willing arm struck down to a 
childlike inefficiency, while the Heart and the 
Will have the purpose of a giant's out-doing 
We must remember, too, that the very organiza- 
tion of such a mind as that of Poe — the very 
tension and tone of his exquisitely strung nerves — 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 261 

the passionate yearnings of his soul for the 
beautiful and true, utterly unfitted him for the 
rude jostlings and fierce competitorship of trade. 
The only drafts of his that could be honored 
were those upon his brain. The unpeopled 
air — the caverns of ocean— the decay and mys- 
tery that hang around old castles — the thunder 
of wind through the forest aisles — the spirits 
that rode the blast, by all but him unseen — and 
the deep, metaphysical creations which floated 
through the chambers of his soul' — were his only 
wealth, the High Change where only his signa- 
ture was valid for rubies. 

Could he have stepped down and chronicled 
small beer, made himself the shifting toady of 
the hour, and, with bow and cringe, hung upon 
the steps of greatness, sounding the glory of 
third-rate ability with a penny trumpet, he would 
heve been feted alive, and perhaps been praised 
when dead. But, no ! his views of the duty of 
the critic were stern, and he felt that in praising 
an unworthy writer he committed dishonor. His 
pen was regulated by the highest sense of duty. 
By a keen analysis he separated and studied each 
piece which the skilful mechanist had put to- 



262 APPENDIX. 

gether. No part, however insignificant or appar- 
ently unimportant, escaped the rigid and patient 
scrutiny of his sagacious mind. The unfitted 
joint proved the bungler — the slightest blemish 
was a palpable fraud. He was the scrutinizing 
lapidary, who detected and exposed the most 
minute flaw in diamonds. The gem of first 
water shone the brighter for the truthful setting 
of his calm praise. He had the finest touch of 
soul for beauty — a delicate and hearty apprecia- 
tion of worth. If his praise appeared tardy, it 
was of priceless value when given. It was true 
as well as sincere. It was the stroke of honor 
that at once knighted the receiver. It was in the 
world of mind that he was king ; and, with a 
fierce audacity, he felt and proclaimed himself 
autocrat. As critic, he was despotic, supreme. 
Yet no man with more readiness would soften a 
harsh expression at the request of a friend, or if 
he himself felt that he had infused too great a 
degree of bitterness into his article, none would 
more readily soften it down after it was in type — 
though still maintaining the justness of his criti- 
cal views. I do not believe that he wrote to give 
pain ; but in combating what he conceived to be 



GRAHAM'S VINDICATION. 263 

error, he used the strongest word that presented 
itself, even in conversation. He labored not so 
much to reform as to exterminate error, and 
thought the shortest process was to pull it up by 
the roots. 

He was a worshipper of intellect — long- 
ing to grasp the power of mind that moves 
the stars — to bathe his soul in the dreams of 
seraphs. He was himself all ethereal, of a fine 
essence, that moved in an atmosphere of spirits 
— of spiritual beauty, overflowing and radiant — ■ 
twin-brother with the angels, feeling their flash- 
ing wings .upon his heart, and almost clasping 
them in his embrace. Of them, and as an ex- 
pectant archangel of that high order of intellect, 
stepping out of himself, as it were, and interpret- 
ing the time he revelled in delicious luxury in a 
world beyond, with an audacity which we fear in 
madmen, but in genius worship as the inspiration 
of heaven. 

But my object, in throwing together a few 
thoughts upon the character of Edgar Allan Poe, 
was not to attempt an elaborate criticism, but to 
say what might palliate grave faults that have 
been attributed to him, and to meet by facts un- 



264 APPENDIX. 

just accusation ; in a word, to give a mere out- 
line of the man as he lived before me. I think I 
am warranted in saying to Mr. Griswold that he 
must review his decision. It will not stand the 
calm scrutiny of his own judgment, or of time, 
while it must be regarded by all the friends of 
Mr. Poe as an ill-judged and misplaced calumny 
upon that gifted son of genius. 

Yours truly, 

Geo. R. Graham. 
Philadelphia, February 2, 1850. 
To N. P. Willis, Esq. 

Numerous other memoirs and biographies of 
Poe have also appeared since his death. Many 
of them have been founded upon Griswold's, and 
have already been alluded to. Such should be 
dismissed without other consideration than that 
they have unquestionably had, aside from the 
unjust estimate which they have conveyed of the 
poet, a deteriorating effect upon the popularity 
of his works, both in America and England. 
The effect ■ of the Griswold biography upon the 
intelligent reader may be exactly measured by 
the impression formed by an English reviewer of 



MEMOIRS OF POE. 265 

Hannay's biography, founded upon Griswold's ; 
to wit, — 

K Should any man of taste and sense, not ac- 
quainted with Poe, be so unfortunate as to look 
at Dr. Griswold's preface before reading the 
poetry, it is extremely probable he will throw 
the book into the fire, in indignation at the self- 
conceit and affected smartness by which the 
preface is characterized." 

In 1859, Mrs. S. H. Whitman, in her volume 
"Edgar Poe and his Critics," which we have had 
occasion to repeatedly commend in this volume, 
made a most valuable contribution to literary 
biograprry, and offered a significant tribute to 
the memory of Poe, which was probably not 
fully appreciated, issued, as it was, at a time when 
the country was disturbed and unsettled by the 
excitements of the impending civil war. 

Mr. James Woods Davidson made a very 
complete collection of Poe material, which was, 
unfortunately, destroyed during the seige of 
Charleston. 

Mr. Thomas Cottrell Clarke made a collection 
which he eventually disposed of, and to which 
we have had access in the preparation of this 
work. 



266 APPENDIX. 

It is not to be regretted that Mr. Clarke never 
completed and published his memoir, for although 
a near personal friend of the poet, he was lack- 
ing in the enterprise and determination necessary 
to the adequate fulfilment of such a task. 

Mr. J. H. Ingram, of London, possessing both 
enterprise and determination, has written and 
published a memoir of Poe, which, considering 
the disadvantage of collecting literary material 
at the distance of three thousand miles from the 
poet's birthplace, is a creditable work, although, 
in some essential points, it is unreliable. 

Mr. R. H. Stoddard wrote an interesting me- 
moir for Routledge's London edition of the poet's 
works. 

Mr. Thomas C. Latto, now of Brooklyn, New 
York, has made a collection, designing, it is 
understood, to write a memoir of the poet. 

Francis Gerry Fairfield wrote a paper, entitled 
"A Mad Man of Letters," for "Scribner's Maga- 
zine," October, 1875, ^ n which he presumed to 
class the author of "The Raven v as an epileptic. 
The article was written, like many others con- 
cerning Poe, with a reckless disregard of facts, 
and was unanswerably controverted by Mrs. S. H. 



MEMOIRS OF POE. 



267 



Whitman, in a letter published in "The New 
York Tribune." 

Mr. Eugene Didier, of Baltimore, has written 
a biographical sketch of the poet, to preface a 
new edition of Poe, issued by W. J. Widdleton, 
of -New York. 

Miss Sarah E. Rice, of Baltimore, aided by 
Wm. Hand Browne, Esq., of that city, has pre- 
pared a memorial volume, containing an account 
of the monument erected in Baltimore to the 
memory of the poet, and some interesting remi- 
niscences of Poe by one of his schoolmates. 

The late J. P. Thompson wrote a lecture on 
Poe, which was, we are informed, delivered in 
Baltimore. These, with our lecture, " The Ro- 
mance of Edgar A. Poe," our vindication of the 
poet originally published in ? Lotos Leaves," 
and subsequently in the Diamond edition of Poe's 
poems, issued by Widdleton, and our reminiscen- 
ces of the poet in " Laurel Leaves," comprise the 
principal isolated papers on Poe, not founded on 
Griswold, that have been published, aside from 
the sketches to be found in the cyclopaedias, and 
the numerous contributions that have, from time 
to time, appeared in the newspapers. 



268 APPENDIX. 

Before alluding to the most significant public 
tiibute ever offered to the memory of Poe, the 
erection of the monument dedicated at Baltimore 
in November, 1875, it should be stated that the 
impression that no fitting marks of respect to the 
dead poet, have ever been offered by his relatives, 
is erroneous. A suitable slab, bearing the in- 
scription, "Hie tandem felice conduntur Rel- 
iquiae ', Edgar Allan Poe," was prepared by the 
order of Neilson Poe, Esq. 

But the relentless fate that pursued the unhappy 
poet during his lifetime, followed him after death, 
and a phenomenal catastrophe prevented the 
erection of the slab over his grave. 

On the day before it was to have been erected, 
a freight train on the Northern Central Railroad 
jumped the track, and ran into the marble yard, 
near by the depot, in which the slab was placed, 
awaiting transportation to the cemetery. The 
slab was directly in the course of the heavy train, 
and was shivered to atoms. 

Poe's grave, therefore, remained neglected 
until efforts of the Baltimore School Teachers 
Association, and the munificence of George W. 
Childs, Esq., of Philadelphia, secured the sub- 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



269 



stantial monument now placed over his tomb. 
The interesting ceremonies of the dedication took 
place November 17, 1875. The account here 
given is gathered from the graphic description 
published in "The Cincinnati Commercial," and 
from the Baltimore papers of November 18. 

"For several years, the school teachers of this 
city have been accumulating a fund for the pur- 
pose of erecting a suitable memorial above the 
last resting-place of this rare genius, and they 
were generously aided in their efforts by Geo. 
W. Childs, of Philadelphia, whose donation 
amounted to nearly half the cost of the monu- 
ment. The ceremonies of unveiling this memo- 
rial to-day were most interesting. Crowds were 
assembled at the western female high school, 
adjoining Westminster Church, where, ten years 
ago, the first entertainment on behalf of the 
movement was given. 

" Professor Elliott gave a history of the move- 
ment, while Professor Shepherd's scholarly pro- 
duction treated more exclusively of r Poe as a 
poet and man of genius/ 

"The reminiscences of Mr. Latrobe were de- 
livered in a most impressive manner, and were 
received with the greatest enthusiasm. 



270 



APPENDIX. 



"Miss Rice, who has always been most active 
in the work, read letters from our own poets who 
were unable to attend, and also one from Alfred 
Tennyson ; and Mr. W. F. Gill, of Boston, who 
has done much, by his earnest vindication of the 
poet's memory, to remove false impressions, gave 
the finest rendition of f The Raven ' to which we 
ever listened. The large audience was absolutely 
spell-bound by his perfect elocution ; and his re- 
semblance to the recognized ideals of Mr. Poe 
himself, made the personation of his horror and 
despair almost painful. 

"A few words by Mr. Neilson Poe, cousin of 
the poet, who was present at his burial, twenty- 
six years ago, expressing gratification at the 
completion of the work undertaken by the com- 
mittee, concluded the exercises in the hall. 

"While the monument was being unveiled, a 
dirge was sung, and a superb wreath of laurel 
and choice flowers, the contribution of the dra- 
matic profession, of which Poe's mother was a 
member, was placed upon it ; after which "An- 
nabel Lee" was recited in the same masterly 
manner by Mr. Gill, and a lady gave a very good 
rendition of ? The Bells.' 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 2 Jl 

w The monument is a plain Grecian obelisk of 
purest marble upon a granite base, and at present 
is only ornamented with a medallion bust of the 
poet, with his name and the dates of his birth and 
death. An inscription written by Tennyson is to 
be added hereafter. 

"The day was lovely, though rather windy 
and cold, and, to-night, the pale beams of the 
moon will shine on the grave — no longer neg- 
lected — of Edgar Allan Poe." 

The platform at the head of the hall was 
filled with a number of gentlemen. Principals 
of the high schools, those who were to take 
part in the exercises, gentlemen who had been 
acquaintances or associates of the poetic genius 
in honor of whose memory the meeting was held, 
and other invited guests. Among them was prom- 
inent the venerable head of Walt Whitman, the 
poet, his silver hair sweeping his shoulders ; Prof. 
John Hewitt, once editor of the " Saturday Visi- 
tor," in which Poe's weird story of " The Manu- 
script Found in a Bottle " first appeared ; Dr. John 
H. Snodgrass, also a former editor of the "Visi- 
tor," Prof. N. C. Brooks, who edited the "Ameri- 
can Magazine," in which some of Poe's earliest 



272 APPENDIX. 

productions appeared, and Prof. Joseph Clarke, a 
very venerable gentleman, whose school at Rich- 
mond, Virginia, had been attended by Poe when 
a boy, were also upon the platform. Among 
others were Prof. J. C. Kinear, of Pembroke 
Academy ; Dr. N. H. Morison, provost of Pea- 
body Institute; John T. Morris, Esq., president 
of the School Board ; the Rev. Dr. Julius E. 
Grammer, Judge Garey, Joseph Merrefield, Esq., 
Dr. John G. Morris, Neilson Poe, Esq., Ichabod 
Jean, Esq., Summerfield Baldwin, Joseph J. 
Stewart, Esq., Professors Thayer and Hollings- 
head, John T. Ford, Esq., George Small, Esq., 
the Faculty of the Baltimore City College, M.. A. 
Newell, Esq., State School Superintendent, as 
well as those who were to take part in the pro- 
ceedings. The exercises began shortly after two 
o'clock with the performance of the " Pilgrims' 
Chorus" of Verdi, by the Philharmonic Society, 
who occupied raised seats in the rear of the hall, 
under the direction of Professor Remington Fair- 
lamb. 

At the close of the music, Professor William 
Elliott, Jr., president of the Baltimore City Col- 
lege, delivered the following address, contain- 
ing the 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



273 



HISTORY OF THE MOVEMENT. 

w Ladies and Gentlemen, — I purpose, in dis- 
charging the duty assigned me on this occasion, 
to give a brief historical shetch of the movement 
which culminates, to-day, in the dedication of a 
monument to the memory of the great American 
poet, Edgar Allan Poe, the first and only memo- 
rial expression of the kind ever given to an 
American on account of literary excellence. 

"This extraordinary and unique genius, born 
in Boston, January 20, 1809, during a brief so- 
journ of his parents in that place, died on the 7th 
of October, 1849, m tms c *ty> which is undoubt- 
edly entitled to claim him as one of her distin- 
guished sons. Two days thereafter, on the 9th 
of October, his mortal remains were interred in 
the cemetery attached to the Westminster Pres- 
byterian Church, adjoining the building in which 
we are now assembled. 

" In this connection, acting as a truthful chroni- 
cler, I deem it proper to state some facts in rela- 
tion to the circumstances of the interment. The 
reliability of the statement I shall now make is 
sufficiently attested by the evidence of at least 
three of the gentlemen present on that occasion 
— possibly the only three who yet survive. 



274 APPENDIX. 

, " I have been informed that the day was, for the 
season, more than ordinarily unpleasant, the wea- 
ther being raw and cold ; indeed, just such a day 
as it would have been more comfortable to spend 
within than without doors. 

"The time of the interment was about four 
o'clock in the afternoon ; the attendance of per- 
sons at the grave, possibly a consequence of the 
state of the weather, was limited to eight, cer- 
tainly to not more than nine, persons, one of 
these being a lady. 

" Of the number known to have been present 
were, Hon. Z. Collins Lee, a classmate of the 
deceased at the University of Virginia ; Henry 
Herring, Esq. , a connection of Mr. Poe ; Rev. 
W. T. D. Clemm, a relative of Mr. Poe's wife; 
oui well-known fellow-citizen, Neilson Poe, Esq., 
a cousin of the poet; Edmund Smith, Esq., and 
wife, the latter being a first cousin of Poe, and 
at this time his nearest living relative in this city, 
and possibly Dr. Snodgrass, the editor of the 
"Saturday Visitor," the paper in which the prize 
story written by Poe first made its appearance. 
The clergyman who officiated at the grave was 
Rev. W. T. D. Clemm, already mentioned, a 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



275 



member of the Baltimore Conference of the Me- 
thodist Episcopal Church, who read the impres- 
sive burial service used by that denomination of 
Christians, after which, all that was mortal of Ed- 
gar Allan Poe was gently committed to its mother 
earth. 

" Another item, which it may not be inappropri- 
ate to record in this historical compend, I will 
now mention, namely, that George W. Spence, 
who officiated as sexton at the burial of Mr. Poe, 
is the same person who, after the lapse of twenty- 
six years, has superintended the removal of his 
remains, and those of his loving and beloved 
mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm, and their re-inter- 
ment in the lot in which the monument now 
stands. 

" For a number of years after the burial of the 
poet, no steps seem to have been taken toward 
making his grave, until, at length, a stone was 
prepared for this purpose by order of Neilson 
Poe, Esq. Unfortunately, however, this stone 
never served the purpose for which it was de- 
signed. A train of cars accidentally ran into 
the establishment of Mr. Hugh Sisson, at which 
place the stone was at the time, and so damaged 
it as to render it unfit to be used as intended. 



276 APPENDIX. 

"Another series of years intervened, but yet no 
movement to mark the grave. True, articles al- 
most innumerable, ad nauseam , made their ap- 
pearance at short intervals during that time in 
different newspapers, but the authors of those 
articles were mostly of that class of persons who 
employ their energies in finding fault with others, 
totally oblivious of the fact that they themselves, 
no less, deserved the censure they so liberally 
meted out to others. 

"'Poe's neglected grave' was the stereotyped 
expression of these modern Jeremiahs. Nor were 
they content to indulge in lamentations ; not un- 
frequently our good city was soundly berated 
because of its alleged want of appreciation of 
the memory of one whose ashes, they intimated, 
had he been an Englishman, instead of filling an 
unmarked grave in an obscure cemetery, would 
have had accorded to them a place in that grand 
old abbey which England has appropriated as a 
mausoleum for her distinguished dead. 

" But the ' neglected grave ' was not always to 
remain such. At a regular meeting of the Pub- 
lic School Teachers' Association, held in this hall, 
October 7, 1865, Mr. John Basil, Jr., principal of 



DEDICA TION OF THE MONUMENT. 



277 



No. 8 Grammar School, offered a paper, of which 
the following is a copy : — 

" ' Whereas it has been represented to certain members of 
the Association that the mortal remains of Edgar Allan Poe. 
are interred in the cemetery of the Westminster Church, with- 
out even so much as a stone to mark the spot ; therefore, 

" 'Resolved that a committee of five be appointed by the 
president of this Association to devise some means best 
adapted, in their judgment, to perpetuate the memory of one 
who has contributed so largely to American literature.' 

"This resolution was unanimously adopted, and 
a committee, consisting of Messrs. Basil, Baird 
and J. J. G. Webster, Miss Veeder and Miss 
Wise, appointed to carry out the purpose named. 

"This committee reported in favor of the erec- 
tion of a monument, and recommended that 
measures be at once taken to secure the funds 
necessary to accomplish this object. This rec- 
ommendation was heartily indorsed by the Asso- 
ciation, and, without delay, the committee entered 
upon the work of raising the funds. 

M ] n "this work the young ladies of the western 
fe 1:1 ale high school took an active and, as will 
be seen, a successful part. An entertainment of 
select readings by the pupils of that school, held 



278 APPENDIX. 

in this hall, on the evening of October 10, 1865, 
under the superintendence of Miss S. S. Rice, 
yielded the handsome sum of $380. A literary 
and musical entertainment, held in Concordia 
Hall, December 7, 1865, in which the pupils of 
the eastern and western female high schools and 
those of Baltimore City College took part, in- 
creased the fund by the addition thereto of $75.92. 
May 15, 1866, a contribution of $50 was received 
from Prof. Charles Davies, of New York, and on 
the 19th of the same month a donation of $54 
was received as an offering of the young ladies 
of r Troy Female Seminary.' These sums, with 
interest added, amounted, as per report of Thomas 
D. Baird, treasurer, submitted March 23, 1871, 
to $587.02. The enthusiasm that characterized 
the undertaking at the outset seemed now to 
have greatly abated, and serious thoughts were 
consequently entertained of abandoning the pro- 
ject. At this juncture, a new committee, con- 
sisting of Messrs. Elliott, Kerr and Hamilton, 
Miss Rice and Miss Baer, was appointed to con- 
sider the matter. 

"After mature deliberation this committee re- 
ported, April 15, 1872, as follows: "First, re 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



279 



solved, that the money now in the hands of the 
treasurer of the ' Poe Memorial Fund,' be appro- 
priated to the erection of a monument, the same 
to be placed over Poe's remains. Second, that a 
committee of five be appointed by the president, 
with power to act as stated in the first resolution.' 5 
These resolutions were adopted, and the com- 
mittee therein provided for, appointed as follows : 
Wm. Elliott, Jr., A. S. Kerr, Alexander Hamil- 
ton, Miss S. S. Rice and Miss E. A. Baer. 
September 2, 1874, this committee received, from 
the estate of Dr. Thomas D. Baird, deceased, 
the late treasurer of the f Poe Memorial Fund,' 
$627.55, the amount of principal and interest to 
that date, which was immediately deposited in 
the Chesapeake Bank, of this city. Believing 
that this amount could be increased to $1000 by 
donations from some of our fellow-citizens who 
favored the project, the committee applied to Mr. 
George A. Frederick, architect of the City Hall, 
for the design of a monument to cost about that 
sum. 

"Mr. Frederick, in due time, submitted a design 
'at once simple, chaste and dignified,' but re- 
quiring for its realization much more than the 



2>So APPENDIX. 

amount included in the expectations of the 
committee. Moreover, a new feature was now 
introduced, that of placing a medallion likeness 
of the poet on one of the panels of the monu- 
ment, which would still further increase the cost. 
With a view of determining whether the amount 
necessary to complete the monument, according 
to the proportions it had now assumed, could be 
raised, applications were made to a number of 
our citizens for contributions. From one, of ac- 
knowledged aesthetic taste, a check of $100 was 
promptly received. Two other gentlemen con- 
tributed $50 each, while Miss S. S. Rice, a 
member of the committee, collected in small 
sums $52 more. 

"A knowledge of the 'world-wide' known lib- 
erality of Mr. George W. Childs, of Philadelphia, 
formerly one of cur fellow townsmen, induced 
the chairman of the committee to drop him a 
note on the subject. Within twenty-four hours, a 
reply was received from that gentleman, expres- 
sive of his willingness to make up the estimated 
deficiency of $650. 

" The necessary amount having now been se- 
cured, the committee proceeded to place the con- 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 28 1 

struction and erection of the monument in the 
hands of Mr. Hugh Sisson, his proposal being 
the most liberal one received. How faithfully 
he has executed his commission will be seen when 
the covering that now veils the monument is re- 
moved. No one, so well as the chairman of the 
committee, knows how anxious Mr. Sisson has 
been to meet even more than the expectations of 
those most concerned. To his generous liber- 
ality are we largely indebted for the reproduc- 
tion of the classic lineaments of the poet, in the 
beautiful and highly artistic medallion that adds 
so much to the attractiveness of the monument. 

"To most of those present, I presume, it is 
known that the lot in which the monument is 
now located is not the one in which it was first 
placed. In deference to what was considered by 
the committee the popular wish, the monument 
was removed from its first location to its present 
one. The remains of Mr. Poe, and also those 
of his mother-in-law, were, as before intimated, 
removed at the same time. The new lot was 
secured mainly through the efforts of Mr. John 
T. Morris, president of the school board, to 
whom, and to all others who have in any way 



282 APPENDIX. 

contributed to the consummation of this under- 
taking, I wish here, on behalf of the committee, 
to render thanks. 

" In conclusion, allow me to congratulate all 
concerned that Poe's grave is no longer a 
neglected one." 

Upon the conclusion of Professor Elliott's ad- 
dress, which was listened to with deep attention, 
Miss Sarah S. Rice was introduced to the audi- 
ence. To this lady, well known to the public 
from her elocutionary attainments, the greatest 
possible credit is due for the successful comple- 
tion of the enterprise. The first money raised 
for the erection of the monument was through 
her personal efforts, and the entire monument, 
from its inception to the close, has enjoyed the 
benefits of her unremitting attention and effort. 
Miss Rice read the following 

LETTERS FROM THE POETS, 
In response to Invitations to be present on the Occasion. 

FROM MR. BRYANT. 

Cummington, Mass., September 18, 1875. 
Dear Madam, — I return my thanks for the obliging invi- 
tation contained in jour letter of the 14th, and for the kind 
words with which it is accompanied. For various reasons, 



LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 283 

however, among which is my advanced age, it is nol in my 

power to be present at the cei-emonies of which you speak, 

and I have only to make my best acknowledgment to those 

who have done me the honor to think of me in connection 

with them. I am, madam, truly yours, 

Wm. C. Bryant. 
Miss S. S. Rice. 



FROM MR. LOWELL. 

Cambridge, 18th October, 1875. 
Dear Madam, — I regret very much that it will be quite 
impossible for me to be present at the very interesting cere- 
mony of unveiling the monument to Poe. I need not assure 
you that I sympathize very heartily with the sentiment which 
led to its erection. 

I remain very truly yours, 

J. R. Lowell. 
Miss Sarah S. Rice, Cor. Sec. of the 

Poe Monument Association, Baltimore. 



FROM MRS. WHITMAN. 

Providence, R.I., November 5, 1875. 
Miss Sarah S. Rice. 

My dear Madam, — Your most kind and gratifying letter, 
conveying to me an invitation to be present at the unveiling 
of the monument to the memory of our great American poet, 
was duly received. I need not say to you that the generous 
efforts of the association in whose behalf you write have 
called forth my warmest sympathy and most grateful appre- 
ciation. The work was long delayed, and has been consum- 



284 APPENDIX. 

mated at the right time, and through the most congenial and 
appropriate agencies. 

I am, most sincerely and most gratefully, yours, 

Sarah Helen Whitman. 



FROM MR. WHITTIER. 

Amesbury, 9th mo., 21, 1875= 
To Sarah S. Rice. 

Dear friend, — The extraordinary genius of Edgar A. Poe 
is now acknowledged the world over, and the proposed trib- 
ute to his memory indicates a full appreciation of his own 
intellectual gifts on the part of the city of his birth. As a 
matter of principle, I do not favor ostentatious monuments 
for the dead, but sometimes it seems the only way to express 
the appreciation which circumstances, in some measure, may 
have denied to the living man. 

I am not able to be present at the inauguration of the mon- 
ument. Pray express my thanks to the ladies and gentlemen 
for whom thy letter speaks, for-the invitation. Acknowledg- 
ing the kind terms in which that invitation was conveyed on 
thy part, I am very truly thy friend, 

John G. Whittier. 



FROM DR. HOLMES. 

Boston, September 18, 1875. 
Dear Miss Rice, — In answer to your kind invitation, I re- 
gret that I cannot say that I hope to be present at the cere- 
mony of placing a monument over the grave of your poet. 
Your city has already honored valor and patriotism by the 



LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 



.285 



erection of stately columns. Republics are said to be un- 
grateful, perhaps because they have short memories, forget- 
ting wrongs as quickly as benefits. But your city has shown 
that it can remember, and has taught us all the lesson of 
gratitude. No one, surely, needs a mausoleum less than the 
poet. 

His monument shall be his gentle verse, 
Which eyes not yet created shall o'erread ; 

And tongues to be, his being shall rehearse 
"When all the breathers of this world are dead. 

Yet we would not leave him without a stone to mark the spot 
where the hands that " waked to ecstacy the living lyre " were 
laid in the dust. He that can confer an immortality which 
will outlast bronzeand granite deserves this poor tribute, not 
for his sake so much as ours. The hearts of all who rever- 
ence the inspiration of genius, who can look tenderly upon 
the infirmities too often attending it, who can feel for its mis- 
fortunes, will sympathize with you as you gather around the 
resting place of all that was mortal of Edgar Allan Poe, and 
raise the stone inscribed with one of the few names which 
will outlive the graven record meant to perpetuate its remem- 
brance. 

Believe me very truly yours, 

O..W. Holmes. 



FROM MR. ALDRICH. 

Boston, Mass., October 10, 1875. 
Sarah S. Rice, Cor. Sec. 

Dear Madam, — I hasten to acknowledge the receipt of your 
letter inviting me to attend the inaugural ceremonies of the 
monument to Edgar Allan Poe. It is with the deepest regret 



286 APPENDIX. 

that I find myself unable to accept the invitation. 1 have 
just returned from a long absence abroad, and my private 
affairs demand my closest attention. The duties and engage- 
ments which I have been obliged to put aside during the past 
six or seven months leave me no time to write anything that 
would serve your purpose. But for this, I would come in per- 
son to lay my tribute, with the other more worthy offerings, 
on Poe's grave. Your desire to honor his genius is in the 
heart of every man of letters, though perhaps no American 
author stands so little in need of a monument to perpetuate 
his memory as the author of "The Raven." His imperisha- 
ble fame is in all lands. 
With thanks for your courtesy, I remain, 

Very truly yours, 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 



FROM MRS. PRESTON. 

Lexington, Virginia, October 8. 
Miss Sarah S. Rice. 

Dear Madam, — Your note and request, so complimentary 
to myself, has been received. 

I thank you for the good opinion which led you to propose 
the writing of a poem on my part for the prospective inaugu- 
ration of the Poe Memorial. While it is not in my power to 
comply with the flattering request, or to be present at the 
ceremonial, I tender to the committee my thanks, neverthe- 
less, for the honor thus conferred on me. 

There would seem to be a slight appropriateness in the 
proposal made to me, inasmuch as my husband (Colonel 
Preston, of the Virginia Military College) was a boyish 
friend of Poe's when they went to school together in Rich- 



LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 287 

mond : who used to sit on the same bench with him, and 
together pore over the same pages of " Horace." To him, as 
his earliest literary critic — a boy of fourteen — Poe was accus- 
tomed to bring his first verses. Even then, youth as he was, 
he was distinguished by many of the characteristics which 
marked his after-life. 

With every good wish for the entire success of your me- 
morial services, and with renewed thanks to your committee 
for this mark of regard, believe me, my dear madam, sincerely 

yours, 

Margaret J. Preston. 



FROM MR. SAXE. 

Brooklyn, N.Y., October 10, 1875. 

To Sarah S. Rice, Professor of Elocution, Baltimore, 
Maryland : — Of all my letters received during a long confine- 
ment by sickness, yours of the 5th instant is the first I have 
attempted to answer. I employ the hand of another (for I 
am not yet able to write) to thank you for the kind invitation 
you send me to assist at the Poe Monument ceremonies, on the 
15th instant. 

As I cannot hope to be present on that occasion, I avail 
myself of your friendly note to express my interest in the 
event, and my admiration of the noble-hearted men and women 
of Baltimore, who, by the creation of a beautiful and appro- 
priate monument to the memory of Edgar A. Poe, perform a 
patriotic office which was primarily and peculiarly the duty, 
as it should have been the pride, of the American literati, 
toward one whose original genius has done so much to adorn 
and distinguish American literature. 

Yours very truly, 

Joe.n Godfrey Saxe, 



Z SS APPENDIX. 

Prof. Elliot read the following letter from G. 
W. Childs, of Philadelphia, regretting that he 
could not be present : — 

Philadelphia, November 15, 1875. 
It would be verj agreeable to my regard for the memory of 
Edgar A. Poe to accept your invitation to be present at the 
dedicatory ceremonies of the Poe Monument, on the 17th 
inst., but it is quite improbable that I can be with you on that 
occasion. There is a mournful satisfaction, even in this' late 
tribute to one whose rare genius and sensitive nature were 
accompanied by so many unhappy experiences of life. Poor 
Poe ! His working-day world was more than full of sorrows, 
and he seems to have been happy only in his visions outside 
of real life, or in his dream of a world beyond that in which 
we all live. 

What is now being done by the affectionate friends, and by 
those who feel that injustice has been done to his memory, 
may prove to be the starting point of a changed and juster 
view of his life and character. Although it is far too late to 
be of service to him, it is not too late to be of benefit to our- 
selves and others. Those of us who may have felt disposed 
to censure him, can read with profit the following lines from 
his " Tamerlane," and especially the last couplet: — 
" I firmly do believe — 

I know — for Death, who comes for me 

From regions of the blest afar, 

Where there is nothing to deceive, 

Hath left his iron gate ajar, 

And rays of truth you cannot see 

Are flashing through eternity." 

Yours respectfully, 

George W. Childs. 



LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 289 

JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. 

New York, Oct. 11, 1875. 
Dear Madam — On the 15th of this month I am to be in 
Wilmington, Ohio, for a lecture; and on the eve of a long 
Western trip I find myself so crowded with important duties 
that I cannot even write the letter I have in my heart. I c:r. 
very glad the genius of Poe is to be formally recognized by cere- 
mony and monument, as it has been long appreciated by un- 
told thousands of people wherever the English language is 
spoken. I am sorry I cannot be present at the inaugural cere- 
monies ; but you will not miss me. I shall only miss you, 
and the loyal throng who will gather to bring the dead poet 
their honors. Thanking you kindly for your invitation, 

I am yours truly, 

J. G. Holland. 

ALFRED TENNYSON. 

Faringford, Freshwater, Isle of Wight, Jan. 12, 1875. 
I have long been acquainted with Poe's works and am an 
admirer of them. I am obliged to you for your expressions 
about myself, and your promise of sending me the design for 
the poet's monument, and beg you to believe me, 

Yours very truly, 

A. Tennyson. 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 

Cambridge, August 20, 1875. 
Dear Madam, — The only lines of Mr. Poe that I now re- 
call as in any way appropriate to the purpose you mentior 
are from a poem entitled " For Annie." They are, — 
" The fever called living 
Is conquered at last." 



290 



APPENDIX. 



But I dare say you will be able to find something better. 
In great haste, Yours truly, 

Henry W. Longfellow. 



FROM A PERSONAL FRIEND. 

Brooklyn, N.Y., October 11, 1875. 

My Dear Miss Rice, — My friend John G. Saxe, towh"7i 
you wrote in regard to the " Poe Monument Association,' 1 is 
quite unwell ; indeed, is confined to his room, and fears he 
will not be able to answer your kind request. If, however, 
he shall be able, he will at least write you. In the mean time, 
at his suggestion, allow me, a personal friend and warm ad- 
mirer of both the genius and personal worth of our lamented 
friend, to say to you and to the association a few words. 

I have resided and practised my profession of the law in 
Brooklyn for about thirty years. Shortly after I moved here, 
in 1845, Mr. Poe and I became personal friends. His last 
residence, and where I visited him oftenest, was in a beautiful 
secluded cottage at Fordham, fourteen miles above New York. 
It was there I often saw his dear wife during her last illness, 
and attended her funeral. It was from there that he and his 
"dear Muddie" (Mrs. Clemm) often visited me at my house, 
frequently, at my urgent solicitation, remaining many days. 
When he finally departed on his last trip South, the kissing 
and hand-shaking were at my front door. He was hopeful ; 
we were sad, and tears gushed in torrents as he kissed his 
" dear Muddie" and my wife " good-bye." Alas ! it proved, 
as Mrs. Clemm feared, a final adieu. 

A few months afterwards, on receipt of the sad news of his 
death, I offered Mrs. C. a home in my family, where she re- 
sided till 1858, when she removed to Baltimore to lay her 
ashes by the side of her darling Eddie. I hold many of her 



LETTERS FROM THE POETS. 291 

precious, loving, grateful letters to me from there, up to a 
few days before her death. 

And now, as to Mr. Poe, he was one of the most affection- 
ate, kind-hearted men I ever knew. I never witnessed so 
much tender affection and devoted love as existed in that 
family of three persons. 

His dear Virginia, after her death, was his "Lost Lenore." 
I have spent weeks in the closest intimacy with Mr. Poe, and 
I never saw him drink a drop of liquor, wine or beer, in my 
life, and never saw him under the slightest influence of any 
stimulants whatever. He was, in truth, a most abstemious 
and exemplary man. But I learned from Mrs. Clemm that 
if, on the importunity of a convivial friend, he took a single 
glass, even wine, it suddenly flashed through his nervous 
system a"nd excitable brain, and that he was no longer him- 
self, or responsible for his acts. His biographers have not 
done his virtues or his genius justice ; and to produce a start- 
ling effect, by contrast, have magnified his errors and attrib- 
uted to him faults which he never had. He was always, in my 
presence, the polished gentleman, the profound scholar, the 
true critic, and the inspired oracular poet; dreaming and 
spiritual ; lofty but sad. His memory is green and fresh in 
many admiring and loving hearts, and your work of erecting 
a monument over his grave, if it adds nothing to his fame, 
reflects honor on you and your association, and upon all who 
sympathize or assist in your noble work. 

I am proud to assure you, and the association through you, 
that his many friends are grateful and thank you. 
" What recks he of their plaudits now? 
He never deemed them worth his care, 
And death has twined around his brow 
The wreath he was too proud to wear." 

Yours truly, S. D. Lewis. 



292 



APPENDIX, 



FROM A. C. SWINBURNE. 



{From the N. T. Tribune, Nov. 27, 1872.) 
The following letter from the poet Swinburne — addressed 
to Miss Sarah S. Rice, the director of the Poe Memorial Com- 
mittee — was received in Baltimore too late to be read at the 
dedication of the monument. It indicates the sympathy of 
genius with genius; and it affords another illustration of the 
high estimate that English critical thought has placed upon 
the writings of Poe : — 

HOLMWOOD, SHIPLAKE, \ 

Henley-on-Thames, Nov. 9, 1875. J 
Sarah S. Rice. 

Dear Madam, — I have heard, with much pleasure, of the 
memorial at length raised to your illustrious fellow-citizen. 

The genius of Edgar Poe has won, on this side of the At- 
lantic, such wide and warm recognition that the sympathy, 
which I cannot hope fitly or fully to express in adequate 
Words, is undoubtedly shared at this moment by hundreds, as 
far as the news may have spread throughout, not England 
only, but France as well ; where, as I need not remind you, 
the most beautiful and durable of monuments has been reared 
to the genius of Poe, by the laborious devotion of a genius 
equal and akin to his own ; and where the admirable trans- 
lation of his prose works — by a fellow-poet, whom also we 
have to lament before his time — is even now being perfected 
by a careful and exquisite version of his poems, with illustra- 
tions full of the subtle and tragic force of fancy which impelled 
and moulded the original song; a double homage, due to the 
loyal and loving co-operation of one of the most remarkable 
younger poets, and one of the most powerful leading painters 
in France — M. Mallarnlt' and M. Manes. 



WILLIAM WINTER'S POEM. 



293 



It is not for me to offer any tribute here to the fame of your 
great countryman, or dilate, with superfluous and intrusive 
admiration, on the special quality of his strong and del cate 
genius — so sure of aim, and faultless of touch, in all the 
better and finer part of work he has left us. 

I would only, in conveying to the members ^f the Poe Me- 
morial Committee my sincere acknowledgment of the honor 
they have done me in recalling my name on such an occa- 
sion, take leave to express my firm conviction that, widely as 
the fame of Poe has already spread, and deeply as it is already 
rooted in Europe, it is even now growing wider and striking 
deeper as time advances ; the surest presage that time, the 
eternal enemy of small and shallow reputations, will prove, 
in this case also, the constant and trusty friend and keeper of 
a true poet's full-grown fame. 

I remain, dear madam, yours very truly, 

A. C. Swinburne. 

After the conclusion of the letters the following 
poem, contributed by the well-known dramatic 
critic and litterateur ', Mr. William Winter, was 
read by Miss Rice, with exquisite delicacy and 
utterance, and received with a burst of applause : 

AT POE'S GRAVE. 

Cold is the paean ^onor sings, 

And chill is glory's icy breath, 
And pale the garland memory brings 

To grace the iron doors of death. 



294 



APPENDIX. 

Fame's echoing thunders, long and loud, 
The pomp of pride that decks the pall, 

The plaudits of the vacant crowd — 
One word of love is worth them all. 

With dews of grief our eyes are dim ; 

Ah, let the tear of sorrow start, 
And honor, in ourselves and him, 

The great and tender human heart ! 

Through many a night of want and woe, 
His frenzied spirit wandered wild — 

Till kind disaster laid him low, 

And heaven reclaimed its wayward child. 

Through many a year his fame has grown. — 
Like midnight, vast, like starlight, sweet.— 

Till now his genius fills a throne, 
And nations marvel at his feet. 

One meed of justice long delayed, 

One crowning grace his virtues crave : — 

Ah, take, thou great and injured shade. 
The love that sanctifies the grave ! 

God's mercy guard, in peaceful sleep, 
The sacred dust that slumbers here ; 

And, while around this tomb toe weepy 
God bless, for us, the mourner's tear ! 

And may his spirit, hovering nigh, 

Pierce the dense cloud of .darkness through, 

And know, with fame that cannot die, 
He has the world's affection, too I 






DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



295 



The Philharmonic Society then rendered the 
grand chorus, " He, Watching over Israel," from 
the "Elijah" of Mendelssohn, with fine effect. 

ADDRESS OF PROF. HENRY E. SHEPHERD. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, — It is my purpose 
to speak of Edgar A. Poe, principally as a poet 
and as a man of genius. I shall abstain, for the 
most part, from personal incidents or biographical 
details. These, though not devoid of interest, 
pertain properly to the historian of literature or 
to the biographer. Let his ? strange, eventful 
history 'be reserved for some American Masson, 
Boswell or Morlen. 

"Edgar A. Poe was born in 1809, the birth year 
of Alfred Tennyson, and of Mrs. Browning, the 
most gifted poetess of any age. The third great 
era in English letters had then fairly commenced. 
The spirit of the elder day was revived ; the 
delusive splendor that had so long gilded the 
Augustan age of Addison, of Bolingbroke and 
of Johnson, paled before the marvellous intellect- 
ual expansion, the comprehensive culture, that 
distinguished the first thirty years of the present 
century ; the genius of poesy, no longer circum- 



296 APPENDIX. 

scribed by artificial limits, 1 o longer restrained 
by the arbitrary procedures of a reflective age, 
ranged in unchecked freedom, reviving the buried 
forms of mediaeval civilization, the lay of the min- 
strel, the lyric of the troubadour, the forgotten 
splendors of the Arthurian cycle. One day was 
as a thousand years in the growth and develop- 
ment of the human mind. 

"Edgar was in his childhood when our last great 
literary epoch had attained the full meridian of 
its greatness. He spent five years at school in 
England, from i8i6to 1821. The term of Edgar's 
school life in England was a period of intense 
poetic activity and creative form, heroic emprise, 
knightly valor, and brilliant achievement. In 
1822, Edgar, then in his fourteenth year, returned 
to his native land. He attained to manhood at a 
time when, by a revolution familiar in the history 
of every literature, the supremacy was reverting 
from poetry to prose. The cold generalizations 
of philosophy chilled the glowing ardor of the 
preceding epoch. The publication of Macaulay's 
Essay on Milton ' in 1825 marks the transition 
from the sway of the imaginative faculty to the 
present unsurpassed period in our prose literature. 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 297 

From this desultory outline of English literature 
during the early years of the poet, you will ob- 
serve that his intellectual constitution was formed 
under peculiar circumstances. He does not be- 
long chronologically to the age of Shelley, Byron 
and Keats ; his position is one of comparative 
isolation, like that of Wyatt, Sackville or Col- 
lins, in the midst of an unpoetic generation, un- 
sustained by the sweet consolations of poetic 
association, or the tender endearments of poetic 
sympathy. When he attained to the conscicus- 
ness of his great powers, none of those stimulat- 
ing influences existed, save' as matters of history 
or poetic tradition. Tennyson in England was 
viewing nature in perspective, and involving his 
critics in mazes as tangled as the web which 
enveloped the fated Lady of Shalott. Words- 
worth had abjured the teachings of his early 
manhood. Shelley, Keats and Byron were 
dead. Morris and Swinburne were yet unborn, 
and the thrones of the elder gods were principally 
filled by the 'Idle singers of an empty day.' 
American poetry had then produced little that 
* future ages will not willingly let die.' 



293 



APPENDIX. 



POES MASTERPIECE. 

"Having traced the conditions of the era during 
which the poet's mind was blooming into matu- 
rity, we are now prepared to appreciate the dis- 
tinctive characteristics of his genius, as revealed 
in his prose, and especially in his poetry. It is 
known to students of our literature that in all 
ages of our literary history, from the time that 
our speech was reduced to comparative uni- 
formity by the rare perception and philological 
discrimination of Chaucer, there have existed 
two recognized schools of poets, the native or 
domestic, and the classical. In some poets the 
classical element is the animating principle, as 
in Milton, whose pages, f sprinkled with the 
diamond dust of classic lore,' r thick as autum- 
nal leaves that strew the brooks in Vallambrosa,' 
afford the most impressive illustration of its 
power. A wonderful impulse was communi- 
cated to the development of classical poetry, by 
that - morning star of modern song,' the poet 
Keats, and since his advent our poetry has 
tended, more and more, to divest itself of native 
sympathies, and to assume an artistic or literary 
character. Our poetry may have lost pliancy, 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



299 



but it has gained in elaboration and perfection 
of structure. Genius and imagination are not 
repressed, but are regulated by the canons of 
art, and from their harmonious alliance arises 
the unsurpassed excellence of Poe's poetry. In 
the school of literary or classical poets he must 
be ranked in that illustrious procession which 
includes the names of Milton, Ben Jonson, Her- 
rick, Shelley and Keats. Having assigned to 
Poe an honorable eminence in the school of 
classical poets, I proceed to speak of the origin- 
ality, the creative power, displayed in his poetry, 
as well as his brilliant achievements in metrical 
combination. Specific points of resemblance 
may be discovered between his poetry and that 
of his contemporaries or predecessors, but no gen- 
eral or well-defined likeness, and few poets have 
displayed a more surpassing measure of creative 
power. Some of his maturer poems are almost 
without precedent, in form as well as in spirit. 
The 'Legend of the Raven/ related by Roger 
De Hoveden, and referring to the era of 
the Latin conquest of Constantinople, nor the 
Legend of Herod Agrippa,' cited by De Quin- 
cey in his celebrated 'Essay on Modern Super- 



3oo 



APPENDIX. 



stition,' furnishes an adequate foundation for the 
text of Poe's masterpiece. The raven has con- 
stituted a prominent character in English poetry 
for many ages. In ' Hamlet,' in 'Macbeth,' in 
f Sir David Lindsay,' in Tickell's exquisite ballad 
of 'Collin and Lucy,' the appearance of this 
ominous bird of yore will readily suggest itself 
to all lovers of our dramatic and lyric poetry. 
But none of these can be considered as the pre- 
cursor of Poe's 'Raven.' The nearest approach 
to any distinctive feature of 'The Raven' is to 
be found, I suspect, in the dramas of Shak- 
speare, those unfailing sources of intellectual 
nutriment. The one word, ' Mortimer,' of Harry 
Percy's 'Starling,' presents a marked phonetic 
resemblance to the * Nevermore' of 'The Ra- 
ven,' whose melancholy refrain seems almost the 
echo of the 'Starling's' unvarying note. No 
poem in our language presents a more graceful 
grouping of metrical appliances and devices. 
The power of peculiar letters is evolved with a 
magnificent touch ; the thrill of the liquids is a 
characteristic feature, not only of the refrain, but 
throughout the compass of the poem, their 'linked 
sweetness, long drawn out,' falls with a mellow 






DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



301 



cadence, revealing the poet's mastery of those 
mysterious harmonies which lie at the basis of 
human speech. The continuity of the rhythm, 
illustrating Milton's ideal of true musical delight, 
in which the sense is variously drawn out from 
one verse into another, the alliteration of the 
Norse minstrel and the Saxon bard, the graphic 
delineation and sustained interest, are some of 
the features which place 'The Raven' foremost 
among the creations of a poetic art in our age 
and clime. 

"Another distinguishing characteristic of Poe's 
poetry is its rhythmical power and its admirable 
illustration of that mysterious affinity which binds 
together the sound and the sense. Throughout 
all the processes of nature, a rhythmical move- 
ment is clearly discernible. Upon the conscious 
recognition of this principle are based all our 
conceptions of melody, all systems of intonation 
and inflection. In this dangerous sphere of 
poetry, he won a mastery over the properties of 
verse that the troubadours might have aspired 
to emulate. 

CLASSIC ELEMENTS. 

"Permit me next to direct your attention to the 



3° 3 



APPENDIX. 



classic impress of Poe's poetry, its blending of 
genius and culture, and to the estimation in 
which his productions are held in other lands. 
The Athenian sculptor, in the palmiest days of 
Grecian art, wrought out his loveliest conceptions 
by the painful processes of unflagging diligence. 
The angel was not evolved from the block by a 
sudden inspiration or a brilliant flash of unpre- 
meditated art. By proceeding upon a system 
corresponding to the diatonic scale in music, the 
luxuriance of genius was regulated and directed 
by the sober precepts and decorous graces of 
formal art. No finer illustration of conscious art 
has been produced in our century than 'The 
Raven.' In all the riper productions of our 
poet, there is displayed the same graceful alliance 
of genius, culture and taste. He attained a mas- 
tery over the most difficult metrical forms, even 
those to whose successful production the spirit 
of the English tongue is not congenial. The 
sonnet, that peculiarly Italian type of verse 
immortalized by the genius of Petrarch, a form 
of verse in which few English writers have suc- 
ceeded, has been admirably illustrated in Poe's 
f Zante.' Indeed, much of the acrimony of his 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 303 

criticism arose from his painful sensitiveness to 
artistic imperfection and his enthusiastic worship 
of the beautiful. The Grecian cast of his genius 
led to a pantheistic love of beauty incarnated in 
palpable or material forms. This striving after 
sensuous beauty has constituted a distinctive 
characteristic of those poets who were most 
thoroughly imbued with the Grecian taste and 
spirit. It has left its impress deep upon the tex- 
ture of our poetry, and many of its most silvery 
symphonies owe their inspiration to this source. 
In addition to the classic element, his poetry is 
pervaded by that magic of style, that strange 
unrest and unreality, those weird notes, like the 
refrain of his own 'Raven,' 'so musical, so 
melancholy,' which are traceable to the Celtic 
influence upon our composite intellectual char- 
acter. The quick sensibility, the ethreal temper 
of these natural artists, have wonderfully enliv- 
ened the stolid character of our Anglo-Saxon 
ancestors, and much of the style and consecutive 
power that have reigned in English poetry from 
the days of Lajamon, Walter Mapes, and of 
Chaucer, Tiay be attributed to the Celtic infusion 
into the Teutonic blood. Conspicuous examples 



3<H 



APPENDIX. 



of its power may be discovered in Shakspeare, 
in Keats, in Byron and in Poe. 

poe's genius. 
" I have thus endeavored to present to you the 
intellectual character of Edgar A. Poe as it has 
revealed itself to me from the diligent study of 
his works, and from many contrasts and coinci- 
dences that literary history naturally suggests. 
I have attempted to show the versatile character 
of his genius, the consummate, as well as con- 
scious, art of his poetry, the graceful blending 
of the creative and the critical faculty, — a com- 
bination perhaps the rarest that the history of 
literature affords, — his want of deference to pro- 
totypes or models, the chaste and scholarly ele- 
gance of his diction, the Attic smoothness and 
the Celtic magic of his style. Much of what he 
has written may not preserve its freshness, or 
stand the test of critical scrutiny in after-times, 
but when subjected to the severest ordeal of vary- 
ing fashion, popular caprice, the f old order 
changing, yielding place to new,' there is much 
that will perish only with the English language. 
The riper productions of Poe have received the 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



3°5 



most enthusiastic tributes from the sober and dis- 
passionate critics of the Old World. I shall 
ever remember the thrill of grateful appreciation 
with which I read the splendid eulogium upon 
the genius of Poe in 'The London Quarterly 
Review,' in which he is ranked far above his 
contemporaries, and pronounced one of the most 
consummate artists of our era, potentially the 
greatest critic that ever lived, and possessing 
perhaps the finest ear for rhythm that was ever 
formed. You are doubtless familiar with the 
impressions produced by x The Raven ' upon the 
mind of Mrs. Browning, r Shakspeare's daugh- 
ter and Tennyson's sister.' It is but recently 
that one of the master spirits of the new poetic 
schools has accorded to Poe the pre-eminence 
among American poets. Alfred Tennyson has 
expressed his admiration, who, with true poetic 
ken, was among the first to appreciate the nov- 
elty and the delicacy of his method, and who, at 
a time when the laureate's fame was obscured by 
adverse and undiscerning criticism, plainly fore- 
saw the serene splendor of his matured greatness. 
An appreciative and generous Englishman has 
recently added to the treasures of our literature 



306 APPENDIX. 

a superb edition. of his works,* in which ample 
recognition is accorded to his rare and varied 
powers, and the slanders of his acrimonious 
biographer are refuted by evidence that cannot 
be gainsaid or resisted. No reader of English 
periodical literature, can fail to observe the fre- 
quent allusions to his memory, the numerous 
tributes to his genius, that have appeared in 'The 
Athenseum,' 'The Academy,' the British quar- 
terlies, and the translations of the new Shak- 
speare Society. Nor is this lofty estimate of his 
poems confined to those lands in which the Eng- 
lish language is the vernacular speech ; it has 
extended into foreign climes, and aroused appre- 
ciative admiration where English literature is 
imperfectly known and slightly regared. 

"Let us rejoice that Poe's merits have found 
appropriate recognition, and that the Poets' 
Corner in our Westminster is rescued from the 
ungrateful neglect which, for a quarter of a cen- 
tury, has constituted the just reproach of our 
State and metropolis. I recognize in the dedi- 
cation of this monument to the memory of our 



♦Edition of Adamsand Charles Black, Edinburgh. 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



3°7 



poet an omen of highest and noblest import, 
looking far beyond the mere preservation of his 
fame by the 'dull, cold marble' which marks 
his long-neglected grave. The impulse which 
led to its erection coincides in form and spirit 
with those grand movements which the zeal and 
enthusiasm of scholars and patriots in Great 
Britain and in America have effected within the 
past ten years for the perpetuation of much that 
is greatest in the poetry of the English tongue. 
At last, we have the works of Geoffrey Chaucer 
restored to their original purity by the praise- 
worthy diligence of Skeats, Furnival, Child and 
Bradshaw. At last, we are to add to the golden 
treasury of our literature genuine editions of 
Shakspeare, in which the growth of his genius 
and his art will be traced by the graceful scholar- 
ship and penetrating insight of Ingleby, Tenny- 
son, Spedden and Simpson. Ten years have 
accomplished what centuries failed to achieve, in 
rescuing from strange and unpardonable indiffer- 
ence the masterpieces of our elder literature, the 
Sibylline leaves of our ancient poesy. This 
graceful marble, fit emblem of our poet, is the 
expression — perhaps unconscious, undesigned, 



308 APPENDIX. 

but none the less effective — of sympathy with 
this grand intellectual movement of our era. I 
hail these auspicious omens of the future of our 
literature with gratitude and delight. But while 
we welcome these happy indications, while we 
rejoice in the critical expansion of our peerless 
literature, let us not disregard the solemn injunc- 
tion conveyed by this day's proceedings. While 
we pay the last tributes of respect to the memory 
of him who alone was worthy, among American 
poets, to be ranked in that illustrious procession 
of bards around whose names is concentrated 
so much of the glory of the English tongue, 
from Chaucer to Tennyson, let us cherish the ad- 
monition to nurture and stimulate the poetry of 
our land, until it ascend, 'with no middle flight,' 
into the f brightest heaven of invention,' and the 
regions of purest phantasy." 

Professor Shepherd was frequently interrupted 
with applause during the delivery of his eloquent 
address. Poe's famous poem of " The Raven " 
was then read by Mr. William F. Gill, who was 
made the recipient of an -ovation at its close, at 
the hands of the audience. The "Tnflammatus," 






DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



3°9 



from Rossini's " Stabat Mater," by Miss Ella 
Gordon and the Philharmonic Society, followed. 
John H. B. Latrobe, Esq., then gave his inter- 
esting personal reminiscences of Poe,* which 
were received with peculiar acceptance. 

REMARKS OF MR. NEILSON POE. 

After Mr. Latrobe had concluded his remarks, 
Mr. Neilson Poe, Sr., a cousin of the poet, was 
introduced by Prof. Elliott. 

Mr. Poe, upon being introduced, said the rela- 
tives of the late poet would indeed be wanting 
in sensibility, as well as gratitude, if they let 
this occasion pass without some acknowledgment 
of their special obligation to those who have 
reared the memorial soon to be unveiled over 
the grave of their kinsman. It is impossible that 
they can be indifferent to the increasing fame of 
one whose ancestry is common to themselves, 
and who share his blood. They cannot but look 
with gratification at the fact that the imputations 
on the personal character of Poe, which envy 



* Given in connection with the account of the .Baltimore 
prizes in our memoir. 



3io 



APPENDIX. 



has invented and malice magnified, can now, 
under a closer investigation and an impartial 
crituism, be judged with chanty and justice. 
Personal animosity may have created slanders 
which a kindlier spirit is now rejecting, and the 
good and noble traits of character of the dead, 
are being recognized by an impartial public. 

AT THE GRAVE. 

Those present then repaired to Westminster 
Churchyard, where all that is mortal of Poe 
reposes. The remains have been removed from 
their first resting-place, in an obscure corner of 
the lot, to the corner of Fayette and Greene 
streets, where the monument now covering the 
grave can be seen from Fayette street. 

While the Philharmonic Society rendered the 
following dirge, written for the occasion by Mrs. 
Eleanor Fullerton, of Baltimore, known in the 
literary world under the pseudonym of "Violet 
Fuller," the Committee on the Memorial, and 
others, gathered around the monument. 

Softly sleep, softly sleep, 
Sleep in thy lowly bed, 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 31c 

Sleep, sleep in slumbers deep. 
Waked not by earthly tread. 
Over' thy grave let the wild winds moan. 
Under this fair memorial stone, 
Poet, thou slumberest well ; 
All thy sorrows o'er, sleep for evermore, sleep ! 



Peace and rest, peace and rest, 

0« weary soul, be thine; 
Rest, rest, in earth's cool breast, 

Sheltered from storm and shine. 
Darkness no more obscures thy way, 
Out of the night, eternal day 
Beams forth with power divine. 
All thy sorrows o'er, sleep for evermore, sleep ! 

The dirge is an adaptation of Tennyson's 
" Sweet and Low," by Mrs. Fullerton. Prof. 
Elliott and Miss Rice removed the muslin in 
which the memorial was veiled while the dirge 
was being sung, and the memorial was then, for 
the first time, presented to the gaze of the public. 
The monument was crowned with a wreath com- 
posed of ivy, and another of lilies and evergreens. 
After the dirge, Mr. William F. Gill, of Boston, 
recited Poe's poem, "Annabel Lee," and Mrs. 
Dillehunt, a former school teacher, selections 
from "The Bells." This concluded the exer- 



312 APPENDIX. 

cises, and the throng which had collected in the 
graveyard came forward to view the monument. 
During the exercises a large throng was gath- 
ered in the vicinity of Fayette and Greene streets, 
unable to gain admission to the female high 
school or the churchyard. 

THE MONUMENT. 

The monument is of the pedestal form, and is 
eight feet high ; the surbase is of Woodstock 
granite, and six feet square, the balance being 
of Italian marble. The pedestal has an Attic 
base, three feet ten inches square ; the die block 
is a cube three feet square and three feet two 
inches high, relieved on each face by a square- 
projecting and polished plane, the upper angles 
of which are broken and filled with a carved 
rosette. On the front panel is the bas-relief bust 
of the poet, modelled by Frederick Volck from 
a photograph in possession of Mr. Neilson Poe. 
The other panel contains an inscription of the 
dates of the birth and death of Poe. The die 
block is surmounted by a bold and graceful 
frieze and cornice four feet square, broken on 
each face, in the centre, by a segment of a cir- 




THE MONUMENT ERECTED IN MEMORY OF POE AT BALTIMORE. 
November 17TH, 1875. 



DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT. 



3 J 3 



cle. The frieze is ornamented at the angles by 
richly carved acanthus leaves, and in the centre 
by' a lyre crowned with laurel. The whole is 
capped by a blocking three feet square, cut to a 
low pyramidal form. The monument is simple 
and chaste, and strikes more by graceful outline, 
than by crowding with unmeaning ornament. 
It was designed by Geo. A. Frederick, architect, 
arid built by Col. Hugh Sisson. 

A TRIBUTE FROM THE STAGE. 

A pleasing feature of the ceremonies was the 
placing upon the monument of a large wreath of 
flowers, made up principally of camelias, lilies 
and tea roses. Together with this, was depos- 
ited a floral tribute in the shape of a raven, made 
from black immortelles. The large petals of 
the lilies suggested the "bells" immortalized by 
Poe's genius, the significance of the other em- 
blems being obvious. These were tributes from 
the company at Ford's Grand Opera House, 
Mrs. Germon being mainly instrumental in get- 
ting them up. Poe's mother had been an actress 
at Holliday-Street Theatre, which fact had been 
preserved in the traditions of the stage, and had 
something to do with inspiring this tribute. 



3H 



APPENDIX. 



MEMORIAL SUGGESTIONS. 

The inscriptions upon the monument have yet 
(1875) to be determined upon. Various sugges- 
tions have been received, among them that from 
the poet Longfellow, read as a portion of the ex- 
ercises. Oliver Wendell Holmes has suggested 
the following, taken from Poe's verses, " To one 
in Paradise : " 

u Ah, dream too bright to last — 
Ah, starry hope that didst arise 
But to be overcast." 

James Russell Lowell, in a letter to Miss Rice, 
has recommended that some passage from Poe's 
works be selected, in allusion to the self-caused 
wretchedness of his life, and suggests the stanza 
of w The Raven" beginning, " An unhappy mas- 
ter," &c, to the end of the verse. Together 
with this, he recommends a selection expressing 
the peculiar musical quality of Poe's genius, and 
suggests a verse of the " Haunted Palace," be- 
ginning, "And all with pearl and ruby glowing." 

In response to a letter of inquiry, the venerable 
poet Bryant furnishes the following as a suitable 
inscription : — 



DEDICA TION OF THE MONUMENT. 



V5 



TO 

Edgar Allan Poe 

Author of the Raven 

And other poems, 

And of various works of fiction, 

Distinguished alike 

For originality in the conception, 

Skill in word painting, 

And power over the mind of the reader, 

The Public School Teachers 

Of Baltimore, 

Admirers of his genius, 

Have erected this monument. 




5EP 28 1945 



Deacidifed using the Bookkeeper process 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Ox.de 
Treatment Date: Sept 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 
A WUHLU i» Park Dnve 



Huxn in wwfc— -— 

m Thomson Park Dnve 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 

(724)779-2111 



